Songs of Power and Impact

“There are several music threads on here. A lot of songs get mentioned and a lot of lyrics re printed. But, music is a powerful as well as subjective entity. In other words, what may give one person goose bumps can be crap to the next person. That is one of the beautiful things about it. So, my question to you is:

What are some of the lyrics that you think are the most powerful and impactful, in your humble opinion? I am going to print two by Harry Chapin that I think really pack a punch.

sniper

mayor of candor lied”

“Chapin does it for me. I have a tape of his Hamilton, Ontario concert not long before he died. I also like James Taylor. I ALWAYS have CCR, The Eagles and Paul Simon's Graceland in the Jeep and blast students, village, anybody with the top off (7 speakers with subwoofer boombox - male menopause sound system in the male menopause Jeep).

Other than that (please don't dump on me, my girlfriend - and I - like them), Jean Ferrat 'C'est toujours la première fois', 'Nous dormirons ensemble' and Charles Aznavour, 'La Bohème', 'Elle', 'Nous irons à Vérone' etc.”

“Saw Chapin about a year before he died. Harry & Tom both gave a benefit concert for something at an old theater in Knoxville, TN.
Great concert.
I met him after the show. He was signing autographs and just chatting with us.
I was dating a woman I later married at the time. He gave my then girlfriend a nice little friendly kiss on the lips. I didn't care for that. My girlfriend was thrilled. I had to act all nonchalant.”

“A ROCK 'N' ROLL FANTASY
The Kinks

Hello you, hello me, hello people we used to be
Isn't it strange, we never changed
We've been through it all yet we're still the same
And I know it's a miracle, we still go, and for all we know
We might still have a way to go
Hello me, hello you, you say you want out
Want to start anew, throw in your hand
Break up the band, start a new life, be a new man
But for all we know, we might still have a way to go
Before you go, there's something you ought to know
There's a guy in my block, he lives for rock
He plays records day and night
And when he feels down, he puts some rock 'n' roll on
And it makes him feel alright
And when he feels the world is closing in
He turns his stereo way up high
He just spends his life, living in a rock 'n' roll fantasy
He just spends his life, living on the edge of reality
He just spends his life, in a rock 'n' roll fantasy
He just spends his life, living in a rock 'n' roll fantasy
He just spends his life, living on the edge of reality
He just spends his life, in a rock 'n' roll fantasy
He just spends his life, livingt in a rock 'n' roll fantasy
Look at me, look at you
You say you've got nothing left to prove
The King is dead, rock is done
You might be through but I've just begun
I don't know, I feel free and I won't let go
Before you go, there's something you ought to know
Dan is a fan and he lives for our music
It's the only thing that gets him by
He's watched us grow and he's seen all our shows
He's seen us low and he's seen us high
Oh, but you and me keep thinking
That the world's just passing us by
Dont' want to spend my life, living in a rock 'n' roll fantasy
Don't want to spend my life living on the edge of reality
Don't want to waste my life, hiding away anymore
Don't want to spend my life, living in a rock 'n' roll fantasy...”

“....now that I ponder this question....back in the day as it were.....the song that was so revered was "God Save the Queen" by the Sex Pistols....now how can you argue this...don't dis royalty dude...but nowadays....the Pistols don't get much airplay in the stratusloop household.....”

“Hearts And Bones

One and one-half wandering Jews
Free to wander wherever they choose
Are traveling together
In the Sangre de Christo
The Blood of Christ Mountains
Of New Mexico
On the last leg of a journey
They started a long time ago
The arc of a love affair
Rainbows in the high desert air
Mountain passes
Slipping into stone
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones

Thinking back to the season before
Looking back through the cracks in the door
Two people were married
The act was outrageous
The bride was contagious
She burned like a bride
These events may have had some effect
On the man with the girl by his side
The arc of a love affair
His hands rolling down her hair
Love like lightning shaking till it moans
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones

And whoa whoa
She said why?
Why don’t we drive through the night
And we’ll wake up down in
Mexico
Oh I
Oh, I – I don’t know nothin’ about nothin’
About Mexico
And tell me why
Why won’t you love me
For who I am
Where I am

He said: ‘cause that’s not the way the world is baby
This is how I love you baby
This is how I love you baby

One and one-half wandering Jews
Returned to their natural coasts
To resume old acquaintances
Step out occasionally
And speculate who had been damaged the most
Easy time will determine if these consolations
Will be their reward
The arc of a love affair
Waiting to be restored
You take two bodies and you twirl them into one
Their hearts and their bones
And they won’t come undone
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones”

“An unforeseen future nestled somewhere in time
Unsuspecting victims, no warnings, no signs
Judgment day the second coming arrives
Before you see the light you must die

Forgotten children, conform a new faith
Avidity and lust controlled by hate
Never ending search for your shattered sanity
Souls of damnation in their own reality

Chaos rampant
An age of distrust
Confrontations
Impulsive habitat

Bastard sons begat your cunting daughters
Promiscuous mothers with your incestuous fathers
Engreat souls condemned for eternity
Sustained by immoral observance a domineering deity

Chaos rampant
An age of distrust
Confrontations
Impulsive habitat

On and on, south of heaven

The root of all evil is the heart of a black soul
A force that has lived all eternity
A never ending search for a truth never told
The loss of all hope and your dignity

Chaos rampant
An age of distrust
Confrontations
Impulsive habitat

On and on, south of heaven”

“THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND
words and music by Woody Guthrie

Chorus:
This land is your land, this land is my land
From California, to the New York Island
From the redwood forest, to the gulf stream waters
This land was made for you and me

As I was walking a ribbon of highway
I saw above me an endless skyway
I saw below me a golden valley
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

I've roamed and rambled and I've followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts
And all around me a voice was sounding
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

The sun comes shining as I was strolling
The wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling
The fog was lifting a voice come chanting
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

As I was walkin' - I saw a sign there
And that sign said - no tress passin'
But on the other side .... it didn't say nothin!
Now that side was made for you and me!

Chorus

In the squares of the city - In the shadow of the steeple
Near the relief office - I see my people
And some are grumblin' and some are wonderin'
If this land's still made for you and me.”

“This one holds up to date for the most part about the news media.

More Trouble Every Day - Frank Zappa

Well I'm about to get sick
From watchin' my TV
Been checkin' out the news
Till my eyeballs fail to see
I mean to say that every day
Is just another rotten mess
And when it's gonna change, my friend
Is anybody's guess, so I'm
Watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear `em sayin'
There's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay the trouble
Comin' every day
Wednesday I watched the riot
Seen the cops out on the street
Watched `em throwin' rocks & stuff & chokin'
In the heat
Listen to reports
About the whisky passin' `round
Seen the smoke & fire
And the market burnin' down
Watched while everybody
On his street would take a turn
To stomp & smash & bash & crash & slash &
bust & burn
And I'm
Watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear `em sayin' that there's
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day”

“Jimmy Crack Corn”

“Well, you can cool it,
You can heat it . . .
'Cause, baby, I don't need it . . .
Take your TV tube and eat it
'N all that phony stuff on sports
'N all the unconfirmed reports
You know I watched that rotten box
Until my head begin to hurt
From checkin' out the way
The newsman say they get the dirt
Before the guys on channel so-and-so

And further they assert
That any show they'll interrupt
To bring you news if it comes up
They say that if the place blows up
They will be the first to tell,
Because the boys they got downtown
Are workin' hard and doin' swell,
And if anybody gets the news
Before it hits the street,
They say that no one blabs it faster
Their coverage can't be beat

And if another woman driver
Gets machine-gunned from her seat
They'll send some joker with a brownie
And you'll see it all complete

So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Hey, you know something people?
I'm not black
But there's a whole lots a times
I wish I could say I'm not white

Well, I seen the fires burnin'
And the local people turnin'
On the merchants and the shops
Who used to sell their brooms and mops
And every other household item
Watched the mob just turn and bite 'em
And they say it served 'em right
Because a few of them are white,
And it's the same across the nation
Black and white discrimination
Yellin' "You can't understand me!"
'N all that other jazz they hand me
In the papers and TV and
All that mass stupidity
That seems to grow more every day
Each time you hear some nitwit say
He wants to go and do you in
Because the color of your skin
Just don't appeal to him
(No matter if it's black or white)
Because he's out for blood tonight

You know we got to sit around at home
And watch this thing begin
But I bet there won't be many live
To see it really end
'Cause the fire in the street
Ain't like the fire in the heart
And in the eyes of all these people
Don't you know that this could start
On any street in any town
In any state if any clown
Decides that now's the time to fight
For some ideal he thinks is right
And if a million more agree
There ain't no Great Society
As it applies to you and me
Our country isn't free
And the law refuses to see
If all that you can ever be
Is just a lousy janitor
Unless your uncle owns a store
You know that five in every four
Just won't amount to nothin' more
Gonna watch the rats go across the floor
And make up songs about being poor

Blow your harmonica, son!”

“Cusswords, just let 'em roll...mother#&%!$ing #&%!$ goddam #&%!$. Cusswords, just don't quit, mother#&%!$ing damn you #&%!$head #&%!$!”

“I had never heard of those two Harry Chapin songs before Treebeard.

Good lyrics.”

“And he performs them beautifully too, Rosey!”

“When I think of all time powerful songs, I think of "Strange Fruit," "What a Wonderful World" and "Amazing Grace." "Angel From Montgomery," "Same Stone" - can make my hair stand on end. Lyrically, in terms of pure power, majesty and impact - it's hard to surpass Leonard Cohen. Songs I've known for decades can still disturb, comfort, blow my mind or move me to tears.”

“When I think of all time powerful songs, I think of "Strange Fruit," "What a Wonderful World" and "Amazing Grace." "Angel From Montgomery," "Same Stone" - can make my hair stand on end. Lyrically, in terms of pure power, majesty and impact - it's hard to surpass Leonard Cohen. Songs I've known for decades can still disturb, comfort, blow my mind or move me to tears.”

“Find the cost of freedom
Buried in the gorund.
Mother earth will swallow you,
Lay your body down.

-CSN”

“"I WANNA ROCK AND ROLL ALL NIGHT AND PARTY EVERYDAY!"

just kidding, i hate that song with and undying passion that knows no bounds.”

“It's really true how nothin' matters
No mad, mad world and no mad hatters
And no-one's pitchin' 'cause there ain't no batters
In Coconut Grove

John Sebastian and Zal Yanofsky”

“Like a bird on the wire,
like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free.

Leonard Cohen”

“While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say good morning to the night
For unless they see the sky
But they can't and that is why
They know not if it's dark outside or light


Elton John and Bernie Taupin”

“I'm a huge music lover. But it's not often I pay too much attention to lyrics. There are certain passages in a song here or there that resonate though. But aren't really many complete anthems which do the same. Perhaps it's my short attention span, but the glimpses of meaning I get from a line or two in a song are often satisfactory enough for me. The music itself and the way it's composed have more meaning, IMO. Radiohead is a great example of this. A very dark, erie feel to the music, and one doesn't necessarily need to pay attention to the words to know what the song is about. Not too sound corny, but it really puts it in the eye of the beholder that way, IMO.

Having said that, I really appreciate the positive tone in the lyrics of bands like 311 and Bad Brains. It really adds a lot to the energy of their music and creates a great vibe.”

“Your "sniper" lyrics and the elton John reference reminded me of this cut from my youth. It a deeper album cut from Elton John;s Caribou album called "Ticking". As I recell it relly moved me on a ver emotional leve when i frist heard it.....OK that was 1975 and I was 15....but it's still a great song.



"An extremely quiet child" they called you in your school reports
"He's always taken interest in the subjects that he's taught"
So what was it that brought the squad car screaming up your drive
To notify your parents of the manner in which you died

At St. Patricks every Sunday, Father Fletcher heard your sins
"Oh, he's unconcerned with competition he never cares to win"
But blood stained a young hand that never held a gun
And his parents never thought of him as their troubled son

"Now you'll never get to Heaven" Mama said
Remember Mama said
Ticking, ticking
"Grow up straight and true blue
Run along to bed"
Hear it, hear it, ticking, ticking

They had you holed up in a downtown bar screaming for a priest
Some gook said "His brain's just snapped" then someone called the police
You'd knifed a Negro waiter who had tried to calm you down
Oh you'd pulled a gun and told them all to lay still on the ground

Promising to hurt no one, providing they were still
A young man tried to make a break, with tear-filled eyes you killed
That gun butt felt so smooth and warm cradled in your palm
Oh your childhood cried out in your head "they mean to do you harm"

"Don't ever ride on the devil's knee" Mama said
Remember mama said
Ticking, ticking
"Pay your penance well, my child
Fear where angels tread"
Hear it, hear it, ticking, ticking

Within an hour the news had reached the media machine
A male caucasian with a gun had gone berserk in Queens
The area had been sealed off, the kids sent home from school
Fourteen people lying dead in a bar they called the Kicking Mule

Oh they pleaded to your sanity for the sake of those inside
"Throw out your gun, walk out slow just keep your hands held high"
But they pumped you full of rifle shells as you stepped out the door
Oh you danced in death like a marionette on the vengeance of the law

"You've slept too long in silence" Mama said
Remember Mama said
Ticking, ticking
"Crazy boy, you'll only wind up with strange notions in your head"
Hear it, hear it, ticking, ticking”

“We really need to get some form of edit feature for our posts on here.......or I need to learn to type...”

“THE DUTCHMAN
(Michael Smith)

The Dutchman's not the kind of man
Who keeps his thumb jammed in the dam
That holds his dreams in
But that's a secret that only Margaret knows

When Amsterdam is golden in the morning [summer]
Margaret brings him breakfast
She believes him
He thinks the tulips bloom beneath the snow
He`s mad as he can be but Margaret only sees that sometimes
Sometimes she sees her unborn children in his eyes

chorus:
Let us go to the banks of the ocean
Where the walls rise above the Zuiderzee
Long ago, I used to be a young man
And dear Margaret remembers that for me

The Dutchman still wears wooden shoes
His cap and coat are patched with the love
That Margaret sewed in [there]
Sometimes he thinks he's still in Rotterdam
He watches [the] tug boats down canals
And calls out to them when he thinks he knows the Captain
'Til [Then] Margaret comes to take him home again
Through unforgiving streets
That trick him though she holds his arm
Sometimes he thinks that he's alone and calls her name

(chorus)

The windmills whirl the winter in
[The winters whirl the windmills 'round]
She winds his muffler tighter,
They sit in the kitchen
Some tea with whiskey keeps away the dew
He sees her for a moment, calls her name
She makes the bed up humming [singing] some old love song
A song Margaret learned when the tune [it] was very new
He hums a line or two, they hum [sing] together in the night [dark]
The Dutchman falls asleep and Margaret blows the candle out.

Copyright Michael Smith
Recorded by Steve Goodman
[Note: words in brackets are as sung by Steve Goodman]”

“i never needed anyone,


and makin love was just for fun.


those days are gone....”

“So many to choose from but I have related to this one for the last several years....

You're wondering who I am-machine or mannequin
With parts made in Japan, I am the modren man

I've got a secret I've been hiding under my skin
My heart is human, my blood is boiling, my brain I.B.M.
So if you see me acting strangely, don't be surprised
I'm just a man who needed someone, and somewhere to hide
To keep me alive-just keep me alive
Somewhere to hide to keep me alive

I'm not a robot without emotions-I'm not what you see
I've come to help you with your problems, so we can be free
I'm not a hero, I'm not a saviour, forget what you know
I'm just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control
Beyond my control-we all need control
I need control-we all need control

I am the modren man, who hides behind a mask
So no one else can see my true identity

Also :
A gypsy in a strange and distant land,
traveling in panic all directions blind,
searching for the warmth of a burning sun,
freezing in the emptiness of where he come from,
Left without a hope of coming home.”

“Gypsy, from the Moody Blues', To Our Children's Children's Children? Love that album...

Also what is the song before it. I like what I read there

--Treebeard (In Maple's name)”

“Sunday Bloody Sunday - U2
After the Gold Rush - Neil Young
Billy Bragg - Help Save the Youth of America”

“Give thanks and praises to the Most-I (Jah!);
Give thanks and praises so high (so high).
He will not deceive us my brethren;
He will only lead us again (again):
Oh, take that veil from off of your eyes;
Look into the future of realize.

Noah had three sons, Ham, Shem and Japhet (Ham, Shem and Japhet);
And in Ham is known to be the Prophet.
Glory to Jah, the Prophet is come (through all these ages);
Glory to Jah, the Prophet has come (through all these stages).
When my soul was hurtin' deep within,
And I'm worrying to be free, desperately, yeah.
So guide and protect I'n'I, O Jah - Jah,
Through all these ages;
Guide and protect I'n'I, O Jah - Jah,
Through all these stages.

Rastafari is his Name (Jah!) -
Rastafari is his Name (Jah!).
If Jah didn't love I (love I),
If I didn't love I (love I),
If Jah didn't love I (love I),
If I didn't love I,
Would I be around today?
Would I be around to say:

Give thanks and praises, give thanks and praises;
Give thanks and praises, give thanks and praises;
Give thanks and praises, give thanks and praises. /fadeout/”

“...This is based on a true story. The song is Harry trying to get into the head of sniper, Charles Whitman. If you are an aging fart like myself, you may remember his shooting spree back in 1966 at the University of Texas...
Date/Time: July 31, 1966. Between 11:00pm and 12:30am.
Place: Downtown Austin
Charles J. Whitman picked up his wife from her summer job as a telephone operator and dropped her off at home. He then drove across town to his mother's apartment and stabbed her five times, shot her once in the back of the head, and squeezed her left hand so hard that her engagement ring broke her finger and the stone in it broke. He left a note on her nightstand. He then drove home and stabbed his wife four times (for the number of years they had been together). She was supposedly asleep because there was no sign of a struggle. He also typed another note on that same night.

Date/Time: August 1, 1966. 11:48am.
Place: University of Texas at Austin Campus

Charles Joseph Whitman carted a green duffel bag on a rented hand cart up the elevators of the UT Tower. The bag was labeled, "Lance Cpl. C. J. Whitman," and stuffed full of Spam, Planters Peanuts, fruit cocktail, sandwiches, a box of raisins, jerricans containing water and gasoline, rope, binoculars, canteens, a plastic bottle of Mennen spray deodorant, toilet paper, a machete, Bowie knife, hatchet, a 6mm Remington bolt-action rifle (with a 4-power Leupold telescopic sight), a .35 caliber Remington Rifle, a Galesi-Brescia pistol, and a .357 Magnum Smith & Wesson revolver, a ..30 caliber carbine, 12-gauge sawed off shotgun (which he had just bought from Sears on credit that morning), some 30 shot magazines, and over 700 rounds of ammunition. (He decided to leave his other three rifles and two derringers at home).

He was held up by a receptionist, and a small family of visitors, at the top of the Tower. If he hadn't had to kill most of them, he would have made it up to the observation deck in time to see everyone getting out of class for lunch. Instead, he had to pick off the stragglers who remained.

He held up his battle for 99 minutes before 3 Austin Patrolmen and one retired Air Force Tailgunner tunneled in the catacomes beneath the South Mall and found their way into the Tower, where they shot him 6 times with a .38, and twice in the face with a 12-gauge shotgun from 5 feet away.

Later, at Whitman's request in a letter in his duffel bag, an autopsy was performed. They found a tumor the size of a golf-ball putting pressure on the aggression center of his brain.”

“Im surprised you didnt recognise it... I guess the japanese I edited out threw ya.

Mr.Roboto - styx”

“Yeah, I should have recognized that, DOM. Sometimes, with the absence of music, I have trouble picking out lyrics that I'm not used to paying attention to.”

“This was the "bonus" cut on 1984's "Building the Perfect Beast" CD. It always hit very close to home and the way things happened in my area at that time.......

A Month Of Sundays
Don Henley

I used to work for Harvester
I used to use my hands
I used to make the tractors and the combines that plowed and harvested this great land
Now I see my handiwork on the block everywhere I turn
And I see the clouds 'cross the weathered faces and I watch the harvest burn

I quit the plant in '57
Had some time for farmin' then
Banks back then was lendin' money
The banker was the farmer's friend
And I've seen dog days and dusty days;
Late spring snow and early fall sleet;
I've held the leather reins in my hands and felt the soft ground under my feet
Between the hot dry weather and the taxes, and the Cold War it's been hard to make ends meet
But I always kept the clothes on our backs;
I always put the shoes on our feet

My grandson, he comes home from college
He says, "We get the government we deserve."
My son-in-law just shakes his head and says, "That little punk, he never
had to serve."
And I sit here in the shadow of the suburbs and look out across these
empty fields
I sit here in earshot of the bypass and all night I listen to the rushin'
of the wheels

The big boys, they all got computers; got incorporated, too
Me, I just know how to raise things
That was all I ever knew
Now, it all comes down to numbers
Now I'm glad that I have quit
Folks these days just don't do nothin' simply for the love of it

I went into town on the Fourth of July
Watched 'em parade past the Union Jack
Watched 'em break out the brass and beat on the drum
One step forward and two steps back
And I saw a sign on Easy Street, said, "Be Prepared to Stop."
Pray for the independent, little man
I don't see next year's crop
And I sit here on the back porch in the twilight
And I hear the crickets hum
I sit and watch the lightning in the distance but the showers never come
I sit here and listen to the wind blow
I sit here and rub my hands
I sit here and listen to the clock strike, and I wonder when I'll see my companion again
©1984”

“Oops! Make that cassette, not CD. Seeing the lyrics makes me want to hear it.

I saw all those things it refers to and they are still happening today, as the smaller farmer is bought out. I can see the weathered faces. I saw all the farmers in my area who drove 80 miles one way to work at the big John Deere factory.....Then either bought their own farms, later to perchance fail... or finally to get laid off at Deere due to the bad economy for farmers.

I grew up on a farm.... Henley's words just sure hit home.”

“That's the great part about lyrics. They can evoke those sorts of feelings that hit so close to home. And there are some artists that can use their command of the language in such a precise manner. That is a great song, BTW. I love the way he describes how it was 'back then' in that song. I'm a fan of Henley's in general...


--Treebeard”

“I have always been a big Springsteen fan. On 'Greetings From Asbury Park, NJ', he wrote what I consider one of the greatest street poems ever, called 'Lost In The Flood'. Here's the link to the words...


Springsteen”

“I first heard this about 20 years ago, but it brought me to tears this week:

If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will
If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing

If it be your will
If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice
Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell
If it be your will
To make us well

And draw us near
And bind us tight
All your children here
In their rags of light
In our rags of light
All dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be your will

If it be your will.”

“...But picking a single one of his songs can be rough. There were so many great ones. Here 's the link to two. First is 'Desolation Row.' One of my personal favs and the next is Dylan's 115th Dream, simply because the lyrics are so bizarre and funny (as dreams can be)...

Desolation Row

115th Dream”

“WASTELAND OF THE FREE (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1996

Living in the wasteland of the free...

We got preachers dealing in politics and diamond mines
and their speech is growing increasingly unkind
They say they are Christ's disciples
but they don't look like Jesus to me
and it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

We got politicians running races on corporate cash
Now don't tell me they don't turn around and kiss them peoples' ass
You may call me old-fashioned
but that don't fit my picture of a true democracy
and it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

We got CEO's making two hundred times the workers' pay
but they'll fight like hell against raising the minimum wage
and If you don't like it, mister, they'll ship your job
to some third-world country 'cross the sea
and it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

Living in the wasteland of the free
where the poor have now become the enemy
Let's blame our troubles on the weak ones
Sounds like some kind of Hitler remedy
Living in the wasteland of the free

We got little kids with guns fighting inner city wars
So what do we do, we put these little kids behind prison doors
and we call ourselves the advanced civilization
that sounds like crap to me
and it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

We got high-school kids running 'round in Calvin Klein and Guess
who cannot pass a sixth-grade reading test
but if you ask them, they can tell you
the name of every crotch on MTV
and it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

We kill for oil, then we throw a party when we win
Some guy refuses to fight, and we call that the sin
but he's standing up for what he believes in
and that seems pretty damned American to me
and it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

Living in the wasteland of the free
where the poor have now become the enemy
Let's blame our troubles on the weak ones
Sounds like some kind of Hitler remedy
Living in the wasteland of the free

While we sit gloating in our greatness
justice is sinking to the bottom of the sea
Living in the wasteland of the free
Living in the wasteland of the free
Living in the wasteland of the free”

“Courtesy of the Red, White, & Blue (The Angry American)
(Toby Keith)

American Girls and American Guys
We’ll always stand up and salute
We’ll always recognize
When we see Old Glory Flying
There’s a lot of men dead
So we can sleep in peace at night
When we lay down our head

My daddy served in the army
Where he lost his right eye
But he flew a flag out in our yard
Until the day that he died
He wanted my mother, my brother, my sister and me
To grow up and live happy
In the land of the free.

Now this nation that I love
Has fallen under attack
A mighty sucker punch came flyin’ in
From somewhere in the back
Soon as we could see clearly
Through our big black eye
Man, we lit up your world
Like the 4th of July

Hey Uncle Sam
Put your name at the top of his list
And the Statue of Liberty
Started shakin’ her fist
And the eagle will fly
Man, it’s gonna be hell
When you hear Mother Freedom
Start ringin’ her bell
And it feels like the whole wide world is raining down on you
Brought to you Courtesy of the Red White and Blue

Justice will be served
And the battle will rage
This big dog will fight
When you rattle his cage
And you’ll be sorry that you messed with
The U.S. of A.
`Cause we`ll put a boot in your ass
It`s the American way

Hey Uncle Sam
Put your name at the top of his list
And the Statue of Liberty
Started shakin’ her fist
And the eagle will fly
Man, it’s gonna be hell
When you hear Mother Freedom
Start ringin’ her bell
And it feels like the whole wide world is raining down on you
Brought to you Courtesy of the Red White and Blue”

“Where’s Billy Jack when you need him?”

“WAR ENSEMBLE

Propaganda death ensemble
Burial to be
Corpses rotting through the night
In blood laced misery
Scorched earth the policy
The reason for the siege
The pendulum it shaves the blade
The strafing air blood raid

Infiltration push reserves
Encircle the front lines
Supreme art of strategy
Playing on the minds
Bombard till submission
Take all to their graves
Indication of triumph
The number that are dead

CHORUS
Sport the war, war support
The sport is war, total war
When victory's a massacre
The final swing is not a drill
It's how many people I can kill


CHORUS

Be dead friend from above
When darkness falls
Descend into my sights
Your fallen walls
Spearhead break through the lines
Flanked all around
Soldiers of attrition
Forward their ground
Gregime prophetic age
Old in its time
Flowing veins run on through
Deep in the Rhine
Center of the web
All battles scored
What is our war crimes
Era forever more...war

Propaganda War Ensemble
Burial to be
Bones shining in the night
In blood laced misery
Campaign of elimination
Twisted psychology
When victory is to survive
And death is defeat


CHORUS
Sport the war, war support
The sport is total war
When victory's a massacre
When victory is survival
When this end is a slaughter
The final swing is not a drill
It's how many people I can kill”

“We wrote this song, it's not too short, not too long
It's got back-up voc's in just the right places
It's got a few oohs and ahhs
It takes a little pause
Just before the second chorus
Please play this song on the radio
Almost every line is sung on time
Almost every verse ends in a rhyme
The only problem we had was writing enough words
But that's okay, because the chorus is
Coming up again now
Please play this song on the radio
Please play this song on the radio”

“You really like gorillas?
We've got just the pet for you
It's the way you're forced to act
To survive our schools

Make your whole life revolve around sports
Walk tough-don't act too smart
Be a mean machine
Then we'll let you get ahead

Jock-O-Rama-Save my soul
We're under the thumb of the Beef Patrol
The future of America is in their hands
Watch it roll over Niagara Falls
Pep rally in the holy temple
And you're forced to go
Masturbate en masse
With the favored religious cult
Cheerleaders yell-"Ra Ra Team"
From the locker room parades the prime beef
When archaeologists dig this up
They'll either laugh or cry

Jock-O-Rama-On the brain
Redneck-a-thon drivin' me insane
The future of America is in their hands
Watch it roll over Niagara Falls
Unzip that old time religion
On the almighty football field
Beerbellies of all ages
Come to watch the gladiators bleed
"Now boys, this game ain't played for fun
You're going out there to win
How d'ya win?
Get out there
And snap the other guy's knee!"

Beat 'em up! Beat 'em up!
Ra Ra Ra
Snap those spinal cords
Ha Ha Ha

The star quarterback lies injured
Unconscious on the football field
Looks like his neck's been broken
Seems to happen somewhere every year

His mom and dad clutch themselves and cry
Their favorite son will never walk again
Coach says, "That boy gave a hundred percent
What spirit
What a man"

But who cares?
Games over-Let's go get wasted man
To the 7-11, to the liquor store
Let's party all night and party some more

Another Trans-Am
Wrapped itself around a telephone pole
"I ain't drunk, officer
I just fell gettin' out of my car"

Don't worry about it, son
We were that way when we were young
You've got all the skills
To make a damn good businessman

Jock-O-Rama-that's the law
Come lick the butts of the Beef Patrol
If the future of America is handed to them
Watch it roll over Niagara Falls”

“Tonight's the night that we got the truck
We're goin' downtown, gonna beat up drunks
Your turn to drive I'll bring the beer
It's the late late shift to one to fear

And ride, ride how we ride
We ride, lowride

It's round-up time where the good whores meet
Gonna drag one screaming off the street

And ride, ride, how we ride

Got a black uniform and a silver badge
Playin' cops for real, playin' cops for pay

Let's ride, lowride

Pull down your dress here's a kick in the ass
Let's beat you blue 'til you #&%!$ in your pants
Don't move, child, gotta big black stick
There's six of us, babe, so suck on my dick

And ride, ride, how we ride
Let's ride, ride, how we ride
Let's ride, lowride

The left newspapers might whine a bit
But the guys at the station they don't give a #&%!$
Dispatch calls "Are you doin' something wicked?"
"No siree, Jack, we're just givin' tickets"

As we ride, ride, how we ride
As we ride, ride, how we ride
As we ride, ride, how we ride
Let's ride, lowride”

“So you've been to school for a year or two
And you know you've seen it all
In daddy's car thinkin' you'll go far
Back east you type don't crawl
Play ethnicky jazz to parade your snazz
On you five grand stereo
Braggin' that you know how the #&%!$s feel the cold
And the slum's got so much soul
It's time to taste what you most fear
Right Guard will not help you here
Brace yourself, my dear
Brace yourself, my dear

It's a holiday in Cambodia
It's tough kid, but it's life
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Don't foget to pack a wife

You're a star-belly sneech you suck like a leech
You want everyone to act like you
Kiss ass while you #&%!$ so you can get rich
But your boss gets richer off you
Well you'll work harder with a gun in your back
For a bowl of rice a day
Slave for soldiers 'til you starve
Then you head is skewered on a stake
Now you can go where people are one
Now you can go where they get things done
What you need, my son...
What you need, my son...
Is a holiday in Cambodia
Where people dress in black
A holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll kiss ass or crack

Pol Pot
Pol Pot
Pol Pot
etc.

And it's a holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll do what you're told

A holiday in Cambodia
Where the slum's got so much soul”

“Man, I haven't listened to my old Dead Kennedys stuff in a while.”

“The last three ditties were by the Dead Kennedys
#1 was jock-o-rama
#2 was police truck
#3 was holiday in cambodia

Such wonderful songs to brighten anyones day.”

“Yep.”