war, what is it good for - protest songs

Welcome to A2K djjd62! How about:

The eastern world it is explodin
Violence flarin bullets loadin
You're old enough to kill but not for votin
You don't believe in war, what's that gun you're totin
And even the Jordan river has bodies floatin
But you tell me over and over and over again my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction
Don't you understand, what I'm trying to say
Can't you see the fear that I'm feeling today
If the button is pushed, there's no running away
There'll be no one to save with the world in a grave
Take a look around you, boy, it's bound to scare you, boy
And you tell me over and over and over again my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction
Yeah, my blood's so mad, feels like coagulatin
I'm sittin here, just contemplatin
I can't twist the truth, it knows no regulation
Handful of Senators don't pass legislation
And marches alone can't bring integration
When human respect is disintegratin
This whole crazy world is just too frustratin
And you tell me over and over and over again my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction
Think of all the hate there is in Red China
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama
Ah, you may leave here, for four days in space
But when your return, it's the same old place
The poundin of the drums, the pride and disgrace
You can bury your dead, but don't leave a trace
Hate your next door neighbor, but don't forget to say grace
And you tell me over and over and over and over again my friend
you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction

Masters of War
Bob Dylan's song was printed on the front page of China's official newspaper.


Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand o'er your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead

UNIVERSAL SOLDIER
Buffy Sainte-Marie
© Caleb Music-ASCAP

I wrote "Universal Soldier" in the basement of The Purple Onion coffee house in Toronto in the early sixties. It's about individual responsibility for war and how the old feudal thinking kills us all. Donovan had a hit with it in 1965.

He's five feet two and he's six feet four
He fights with missiles and with spears
He's all of 31 and he's only 17
He's been a soldier for a thousand years

He's a Catholic, a Hindu, an athiest, a Jain,
a Buddhist and a Baptist and a Jew
and he knows he shouldn't kill
and he knows he always will
kill you for me my friend and me for you

And he's fighting for Canada,
he's fighting for France,
he's fighting for the USA,
and he's fighting for the Russians
and he's fighting for Japan,
and he thinks we'll put an end to war this way

And he's fighting for Democracy
and fighting for the Reds
He says it's for the peace of all
He's the one who must decide
who's to live and who's to die
and he never sees the writing on the walls

But without him how would Hitler have
condemned him at Dachau
Without him Caesar would have stood alone
He's the one who gives his body
as a weapon to a war
and without him all this killing can't go on

He's the universal soldier and he
really is to blame
His orders come from far away no more
They come from him, and you, and me
and brothers can't you see
this is not the way we put an end to war.

I was just a kid when this song was #1 and I loved it. I had it on a 45 record and my dad hated it with a passion. Of course, that made me play it all the more.


Abraham, Martin and John


Has anybody here seen my old friend Abraham?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed a lot of people,
But it seems the good die young,
But I just looked around and he's gone.
Has anybody here seen my old friend John?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed a lot of people,
But it seems the good die young,
But I just looked around and he's gone.

Has anybody here seen my old friend Martin?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed a lot of people,
But it seems the good die young,
But I just looked around and he's gone.

Didn't you love the things they stood for?
Didn't they try to find some good for you and me?
And we'll be free.
Someday soon,
it's gonna be
One day.

Has anybody here seen my old friend Bobby?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
I thought I saw him walkin' Up over the hill,
With Abraham, Martin and John

I just realized this isn't a protest song. Guess I'm not thinking clearly...

Damn.
OCCOM BILL used mine.

The Eve of Distruckshun.

Donovan - The War Drags On Lyrics
Let me tell you the story of a soldier named Dan.
Went out to fight the good fight in South Vietnam,
Went out to fight for peace, liberty and all,
Went out to fight for equality, hope, let's go,
And the war drags on.
Found himself involved in a sea of blood and bones,
Millions without faces, without hope and without homes.
And the guns they grew louder as they made dust out of bones
That the flesh had long since left just as the people left their
homes,
And the war drags on.
They're just there to try and make the people free,
But the way that they're doing it, it don't seem like that to me.

Just more blood-letting and misery and tears
That this poor country's known for the last twenty years,
And the war drags on.
Last night poor Dan had a nightmare it seems.
One kept occurring and re-occurring in his dream:
Cities full of people burn and scream and shoutin' loud
And right over head a great orange mushroom cloud.
And there's no more war,
for there's no more world,
And the tears come streaming down.
Yes, I lie crying on the ground.

In 1814 we took a little trip,
Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississipp'
We took a little bacon and we took a little beans,
And we met the bloody British near the town of New Orleans.
Chorus:
We fired our guns and the British kept a comin'.
There wasn't nigh as many as they was a while ago.
We fired once more and they begin to runnin',
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.

We looked down the river and we see'd the British come...
There must have been a hundred of 'em beatin' on the drum.
They stepped so high and they made their bugles ring;
While we stood beside our cotton bales and didn't say a thing.
Old Hickory said we could take 'em by surprise.
If we didn't fire a musket till we looked 'em in the eyes.
We held our fire till we see'd their faces well;
Then we opened up our squirrel guns and really gave 'em--Well.
Chorus
They ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles,
And they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn't go.
They ran so fast that the hounds couldn't catch 'em 'em,
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.
We fired our cannon till the barrel melted down,
So we grabbed an alligator and we poured an other round.
We put the ball between his teeth and powdered his behind,
And when we touched the powder off the 'gator lost his mind.
Chorus
They ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles,
And they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn't go.
They ran so fast that the hounds couldn't catch 'em,
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.

With God on our Side - Bob Dylan
He did this one frequently on stage with Joan Baez

Oh my name it is nothin'
My age it means less
The country I come from
Is called the Midwest
I's taught and brought up there
The laws to abide
And that land that I live in
Has God on its side.

Oh the history books tell it
They tell it so well
The cavalries charged
The Indians fell
The cavalries charged
The Indians died
Oh the country was young
With God on its side.

Oh the Spanish-American
War had its day
And the Civil War too
Was soon laid away
And the names of the heroes
I's made to memorize
With guns in their hands
And God on their side.

Oh the First World War, boys
It closed out its fate
The reason for fighting
I never got straight
But I learned to accept it
Accept it with pride
For you don't count the dead
When God's on your side.

When the Second World War
Came to an end
We forgave the Germans
And we were friends
Though they murdered six million
In the ovens they fried
The Germans now too
Have God on their side.

I've learned to hate Russians
All through my whole life
If another war starts
It's them we must fight
To hate them and fear them
To run and to hide
And accept it all bravely
With God on my side.

But now we got weapons
Of the chemical dust
If fire them we're forced to
Then fire them we must
One push of the button
And a shot the world wide
And you never ask questions
When God's on your side.

In a many dark hour
I've been thinkin' about this
That Jesus Christ
Was betrayed by a kiss
But I can't think for you
You'll have to decide
Whether Judas Iscariot
Had God on his side.

So now as I'm leavin'
I'm weary as Hell
The confusion I'm feelin'
Ain't no tongue can tell
The words fill my head
And fall to the floor
If God's on our side
He'll stop the next war.

Kill For Peace by the Fugs

Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Near or middle or very far east
Far or near or very middle east
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill, kill, kill for peace
If you don't like the people
or the way that they talk
If you don't like their manners
or they way that they walk,
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill, kill, kill for peace
If you don't kill them
then the Chinese will
If you don't want America
to play second fiddle,
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill, kill, kill for peace
If you let them live
they might support the Russians
If you let them live
they might love the Russians
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill, kill, kill for peace
(spoken) Kill 'em, kill 'em, strafe those gook creeps!
The only gook an
American can trust
Is a gook that's got
his yellow head bust.
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill, kill, it'll
feel so good,
like my captain
said it should
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill it will give
you a mental ease
kill it will give
you a big release
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill, kill, kill for peace
Kill, kill, kill for peace

Sky Pilot - Eric Burden and the Animals


He blesses the boys as they stand in line
The smell of gun grease
and the bayonets they shine
He's there to help them all that he can
To make them feel wanted he's a good holy man
Sky pilot,
Sky pilot,
How high can you fly?
You'll never, never, never reach the sky.

He smiles at the young soldiers
Tells them it's all right
He knows of their fear in the forthcoming fight
Soon there'll be blood and many will die
Mothers and fathers back home they will cry
Sky pilot,
Sky pilot,
How high can you fly?
You'll never, never, never reach the sky.

He mumbles a prayer and it ends with a smile
The order is given
They move down the line
But he'll stay behind and he'll meditate
But it won't stop the bleeding or ease the hate

As the young men move out into the battle zone
He feels good, with God you're never alone
He feels tired and he lays on his bed
Hopes the men will find courage
in the words that he said
Sky pilot,
Sky pilot,
How high can you fly?
You'll never, never, never reach the sky.

You're soldiers of God, you must understand
The fate of your country is in your young hands
May God give you strength
Do your job real well
If it all was worth it
Only time it will tell

In the morning they return
With tears in their eyes
The stench of death drifts up to the skies
A soldier so ill looks at the sky pilot
Remembers the words
"Thou shalt not kill."
Sky pilot,
Sky pilot,
How high can you fly?
You'll never, never, never reach the sky.

White Boots Marching in a Yellow Land

The pilots playing poker in the cockpit of the plane
The casualties arriving like the dropping of the rain
And a mountain of machinery will fall before a man
When you're white boots marching in a yellow land
It's written in the ashes of the village towns we burn
It's written in the empty bed of the fathers unreturned
And the chocolate in the childrens eyes will never understand
When you're white boots marching in a yellow land
Red blow the bugles of the dawn
The morning has arrived you must be gone
And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls
Like old whores following tired armies
Train them well, the men who will be fighting by your side
And never turn your back if the battle turns the tide
For the colours of a civil war are louder than commands
When you're white boots marching in a yellow land
Blow them from the forest and burn them from your sight
Tie their hands behind their back and question through the night
But when the firing squad is ready they'll be spitting where they stand
At the white boots marching in a yellow land
Red blow the bugles of the dawn
The morning has arrived you must be gone
And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls
Like cold whores following tired armies
The comic and the beauty queen are dancing on the stage
Raw recruits are lining up like coffins in a cage
We're fighting in a war we lost before the war began
We're the white boots marching in a yellow land
And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls
like cold whores following tired armies

Ah -ah love
Let us be true
Let us be true
To one another
The world which seems to lie
Before us like a land of dreams
So various
So beautiful so new
And really neither joy nor love
Nor certitude nor peace nor help for pain
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Where ignorance armies
Clash by night
Let us be true
Let us be true
Let us be true to one another
Let us be true
Let us be true

I did this by memory. It may be slightly wrong: Dover Beach, by the Fugs, adapted from Matthew Arnold's poem.

You all may have missed this one. It's from James Taylor's "October Road" CD. A classic protest song if I've ever heard one.

Belfast To Boston (God's Rifle)

There are rifles buried in the countryside
By the rising of the moon
May they lie there long forgotten
'Til they rust away into the ground

Who will bend this ancient hatred
Will the killing to an end
Who will swallow long injustice
Take the devil for a countryman

Who will say, "This far, no further! Oh lord, if I die today..."

Send no weapons, no more money
Send no vengeance 'cross the seas
Just the blessing of forgiveness
For my new countryman and me

Missing brothers, martyred fellows
Silent children in the ground
Could we but hear them, would they not tell us
"Time to lay God's rifle down."

Who will say, "This far, no further! Oh Lord, if I die today..."

(James Taylor)

Theres something happening here
What it is aint exactly clear
There's a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware
I think its time we stop, children, what's that sound......

Everybody look what's going down..
Theres battle lines being drawn
Nobodys right if everybody's wrong
Young people speaking their minds
Getting so much resistance from behind
I think its time we stop, hey, what's that sound.....

Everybody look what's going down
What a field-day for the heat...
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and carrying signs
Mostly say, hooray for our side.
It's time we stop, hey, what's that sound

Everybody look whats going down....

Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you're always afraid
You step out of line, the man come and take you away....

We better stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look whats going down
Stop, hey, what's that sound...
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, now, what's that sound...
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, children, what's that sound...

Everybody look whats going down...

"The Iraqi War Song"

(or I think I'm Smellin' a Rat Rag)

Performed by Country Bumpkin and the Hogs

Len Horowitz (rhythm acoustic guitar, 12-string guitar, and lead vocalist)

Steve Tunison (lead, bass, and rhythm guitars and backup vocalist)

Mary De La Fuente (rhythm guitar and backup vocalist)

Aria and Alena Horowitz (children's voices)

Lyrics by Country Joe McDonald and Len Horowitz

Clark Turner (Engineer)

Steve Tunison (Producer)


Special thanks to Country Joe McDonald for his original hit,

I think I'm Fixin' to Die Rag (i.e., "The Vietnam War Song"),

his kind permission and support, and for promoting world peace




MUSICAL LYRICS:


Come on all of you dumbed down men.

The son of a Bush needs your help again.

He's got himself in a terrorist jam.

When daddy sent chemicals off to old Sadam, so

Roll up your sleeves for vaccines in your arm,

They don't tell you that their doing you harm!


And it's one, two, three, what are we fighting for

Most know it's the same old scam, next stop is old Bhagdad.

And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates

Well, we've got no mind to question why, whoopee we're all gonna die


Now prepare yourselves generals for the big blast

India and Pakistan are heating up fast

Why you should go out and kill Afghans is

Cause the only good Taliban is one that's dead.

They say global peace can only be won

When they blast us all to kingdom come


And it's one, two, three, what are we fighting for

The clueless just don't give a damn, where the hell

is Pakistan?

And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates

With Prozak minds we don't care to know why,

whoopee we're all gonna die.


Now come on wall street don't be slow,

why man this is war so go-go.

There's plenty of big fortunes to be made,

by supplying the Chinese with the tools of its trade.

Just hope and pray that if they start the bombing,

they drop them on Osama Bin Laden.



And it's one, two, three, what are we fighting for

Most know it's the same old scam, Wag-the-dog at

old Sadam.

And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates

Well, we've got no time to wonder why, whoopee

we're all gonna die.


So come on mothers throughout the land

pack your boys off to old Bhagdad

come on fathers don't hesitate

send your girls too before their wedding date

Be the first ones on your block to have your kids

come home in a box


And it's one, two, three, what are we fighting for

The clueless just don't give a damn, about the oil in Afghanistan

And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates

Well, Rockefeller says the population's too high, and half of us need to die.


So come on all of you dumbed down men,

The son of a Bush needs your help again,

He's got us all in a terrible jam.


Ousting daddy's partner old Sadam,

So don't roll up your sleeves for any shots in your arm. It's just smarter to stay on the farm.

Artist(Band):Cranberries
(Print the Lyrics)
Zombie Lyrics

Another head hangs lowly
Child is slowly taken
And the violence caused such silence
Who are we mistaken

But you see it's not me,
it's not my family
In your head, in your
head they are fighting
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head,
In your head they are cryin'
In your head
Zombie
What's in your head, in your head
Zombie

Another mother's breakin'
heart is taking over
when the violence causes silence
We must be mistaken
It's the same old theme since 1916
In your head,
In your head they're still fightin'
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head they are dyin'

In your head, in your head
Zombie
What's in your head, in your head
Zombie

Written By Warren Zevon & David Lindell c. 1976 Zevon Music/BMI

Roland was a warrior from the Land of the Midnight Sun
With a Thompson gun for hire, fighting to be done
The deal was made in Denmark on a dark and stormy day
So he set out for Biafra to join the bloody fray

Through sixty-six and seven they fought the Congo war
With their fingers on their triggers, knee-deep in gore
For days and nights they battled the Bantu to their knees
They killed to earn their living and to help out the Congolese

Roland the Thompson gunner...

His comrades fought beside him - Van Owen and the rest
But of all the Thompson gunners, Roland was the best
So the CIA decided they wanted Roland dead
That son-of-a-bitch Van Owen blew off Roland's head

Roland the headless Thompson gunner
Norway's bravest son
Time, time, time
For another peaceful war
But time stands still for Roland
'Til he evens up the score
They can still see his headless body stalking through the night
In the muzzle flash of Roland's Thompson gun
In the muzzle flash of Roland's Thompson gun

Roland searched the continent for the man who'd done him in
He found him in Mombassa in a barroom drinking gin
Roland aimed his Thompson gun - he didn't say a word
But he blew Van Owen's body from there to Johannesburg

Roland the headless Thompson gunner...
The eternal Thompson gunner
still wandering through the night
Now it's ten years later but he still keeps up the fight
In Ireland, in Lebanon, in Palestine and Berkeley
Patty Hearst heard the burst of Roland's Thompson gun and bought it

Talking Vietnam
By Phil Ochs


Sailing over to Vietnam,
Southeast Asian Birmingham.
Well training is the word we use,
Nice word to have in case we lose.
Training a million Vietnamese
To fight for the wrong government and the American Way.

Well they put me in a barracks house
Just across the way from Laos.
They said you're pretty safe when the troops deploy
But don't turn your back on your house boy
When they ring the gong, watch out for the Viet-Cong.

Well the sergeant said it's time to train
So I climbed aboard my helicopter plane.
We flew above the battle ground
A sniper tried to shoot us down.
He must have forgotten, we're only trainees.
Them Commies never fight fair.

Friends the very next day we trained some more
We burned some villages down to the floor.
Yes we burned out the jungles far and wide,
Made sure those red apes had no place left to hide.
Threw all the people in relocation camps,
Under lock and key, made damn sure they're free.

Well I walked through the jungle and around the bend
Who should I meet but President Diem.
Said you're fighting to keep Vietnam free
For good old de-em-moc-ra-cy (Diem-ocracy).
That means rule by one family
And 15,000 American troops, give or take a few
Thousand.
American.
Troops.

He said: "I was a fine old Christian man
Ruling this backward Buddhist land.
Well it ain't much but what the heck
It sure beats hell out of Chiang Kai-shek
I'm the power elite. Me and the 7th fleet."

He said: "meet my sister, Madam Nhu
The sweetheart of Dien Bien Phu"
He said: "Meet my brothers, meet my aunts
With the government that doesn't take a chance.
Families that slay together, stay together."

Said: "If you want to stay you'll have to pay
Over a million dollars a day.
But it's worth it all, don't you see?
If you loose the country you'll still have me.
Me and Syngman Rhee, Chiang Kai-shek, Madam Nhu.
Like I said on _Meet the Press_
'I regret that I have but one country to give for my life.'"

Well now old Dien is gone and dead
All the new leaders are anti-Red.
Yes they're pro-American, freedom sensations
Against Red China, the United Nations.
Now all the news commentators and the CIA
are saying, "Thank God for coincidence."

I think you'll like this one Edgar. It's from my favorite poet...

Artist(Band):Billy Joel
(Print the Lyrics)
Leningrad Lyrics
(slow)
Viktor was born in the spring of '44
And never saw his father anymore
A child of sacrifice, a child of war
Another son who never had a father after Leningrad
(slow)
Went off to school and learned to serve the state
Followed the rules and drank his vodka straight
The only way to live was drown the hate
A Russian life was very sad
And such was life in Leningrad
(faster)
I was born in '49
A cold war kid in McCarthy time
Stop 'em at the 38th Parallel
Blast those yellow reds to hell
And cold war kids were hard to kill
Under their desk in an air raid drill
Haven't they heard we won the war
What do they keep on fighting for?
(slow)
Viktor was sent to some Red Army town
Served out his time, became a circus clown
The greatest happiness he'd ever found
Was making Russian children glad
And children lived in Leningrad
(faster)
But children lived in Levittown
And hid in the shelters underground
Until the Soviets turned their ships around
And tore the Cuban missiles down
And in that bright October sun
We knew our childhood days were done
And I watched my friends go off to war
What do they keep on fighting for?
(slow)
And so my child and I came to this place
To meet him eye to eye and face to face
He made my daughter laugh, then we embraced
We never knew what friends we had
Until we came to Leningrad