In the howling compiler comes a stinging line
See it driving nails
Into the souls on the code of pain
From the error, a red orange glow
See the face of fear
Running scared in the source valley below

Code it in the blue sky
Code the blue sky
Code the blue
Code the blue

In the locust wind comes a rattle and hum
Jacob wrestled the code angel
And the code angel was overcome
You plant a demon source seed
You raise a code of fire
See them burning sources
See the flames higher and higher

Code the blue sky
Code the blue sky
Code the blue
Code the blue

This programmer comes up to me
His face red like a rose in a thorn bush
Like all the colors of a royal flush
And he's peeling off those source lines
Slapping them down
Line one hundred, line two hundred
And I can see those source lines
And I can see those source lines

Across the huts where the code contest children sleep
Through the alleys of a quiet city street
You take the staircase to the first floor
Turn the key and slowly unlock the door
As a man breathes into a source editor
And through the walls you hear the compiler groan
Outside is America
Outside is America, America

Across the field you see a source file ripped
See the code through a gaping wound
Pounding on the programmers and children
Who code
Into the arms
Of America