Tears of Rage

Cruel War


Oh the cruel war is raging
Your daddy must fight
And I know I will miss you
From morning till night
You cannot go with me
It grieves my heart so
You cannot go with me
Oh no my son no

For your waist is to slender
Your fingers to small
And your cheeks are to tender
To face the cannon-ball
They will give me shiny medals
They'll call "the killing brave"
But I'd rather hold my darling son
Then fill a thousand graves

I will fight through the winter
Through Summer, Spring and Fall
And there's many a man that I will kill
That I never knowed at all
O listen, oh listen to me Johnny
And heed my story well
There's no glory in the killing
Just the agony of hell

Oh the cruel war is raging
Your daddy must fight
And I know I will miss you
From morning till night

DO RE MI
by Woody Guthrie

Lots of folks back East they say, leaving home every day
Beating the hot old dusty way to the California line
Cross the desert sands they roll, getting out of the old dust bowl
Think they're going to a sugar bowl, but here's what they find
Now police at the port of entry say,
"you're number fourteen thousand for today

Oh, if you ain't got the do re mi, folks, you ain't got the do re mi
Why you better get back to beautiful Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Georgia, Tennessee
California is a garden of Eden, a paradise to live in or see
But believe it or not, you won't find it so hot
If you ain't got the do re mi

You want to buy a house or a farm, that can't do nobody harm
Or take your vacation by the mountain or sea
Don't swap your old cow for a car, you'd better stay right where you are
Better take this little tip from me:
Cause I look through the want ads every day
And the headlines in the papers always say

Oh, if you ain't got the do re mi, folks, you ain't got the do re mi
Why you better get back to beautiful Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Georgia, Tennessee
California is a garden of Eden, a paradise to live in or see
But believe it or not, you won't find it so hot
If you ain't got the do re mi

why such the pain edgar?

Seeing my country reach for the stars, then start sink over four decades into the muck is heartbreaking, Seed.

so im guessing the election did not go the way you planned? Im sorry that you feel such pain

Haiti Cherie


Haiti Cherie, says Haiti is my beloved land
Oh I never knew that I have to leave you to understand
Just how much I miss the gallant Citadel,
Where days long ago, brave men served this country well.

Where sun is bright, or evening with soft moonlight
Shading tree, Creole maiden for company
A gentle breeze, a warm caress if you please
Work, laughter and play, yes we'll always be this way

Haiti Cherie, now I've returned to your soil so dear
Let me hear again, the things that give music to my ear.
The lone shepherd's horn that welcomes the rising morn
When roads overflow as crowds to Iron market go.

Where sun is bright, or evening with soft moonlight
Shading tree, Creole maiden for company
A gentle breeze, a warm caress if you please
Work, laughter and play, yes we'll always be this way

I've seen all of Roosevelt's best work go in the toilet and the very people it hurts most voting for the ones that killed it. Many of those to blame are Democrats too.

As I went out one morning
To breathe the air around Tom Paine's,
I spied the fairest damsel
That ever did walk in chains.
I offer'd her my hand,
She took me by the arm.
I knew that very instant,
She meant to do me harm.

"Depart from me this moment,"
I told her with my voice.
Said she, "But I don't wish to,"
Said I, "But you have no choice."
"I beg you, sir," she pleaded
From the corners of her mouth,
"I will secretly accept you
And together we'll fly south."

Just then Tom Paine, himself,
Came running from across the field,
Shouting at this lovely girl
And commanding her to yield.
And as she was letting go her grip,
Up Tom Paine did run,
"I'm sorry, sir," he said to me,
"I'm sorry for what she's done."

which works would you say have gone down the drain? im sorry i do not know... i should know.. this is my country... but i havnt paid attention till just lately

You don't mind it I add one...do you edgar?

Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream

Last night I had the strangest dream
I'd ever dreamed before
I dreamed the world had all agreed
To put an end to war

I dreamed I saw a mighty room
The room was Filled men
And the paper they were signing said
They'd never fight again

And when the papers were all signed
And a million copies made
They all joined hands and bowed their heads
And grateful pray'rs were prayed

And the people in the streets below
Were dancing 'round and 'round
While guns and swords and uniforms
Were scattered on the ground

Last night I had the strangest dream
I'd never dreamed before
I dreamed the world had all agreed
To put an end to war

Lyrics by Ed McCurdy

crops are all in and the peaches are rotting.
The oranges are piled in the creosote dumps.
They're flyin me back to that Mexico border
To pay all your money to wade back again

Chorus:

Goodbye to my Juan, Goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria.
You won't have a name when you ride the big aeroplane
All they will call you will be "deportees."

My father's own father he waded that river.
They took all the money he made in his life.
My brothers and sisters they worked in the fruit trees
And they rode the trucks till they took down and died


Chorus

Some of us are illegals and others not wanted
The work contract's out and we have to move on
Six hundred miles to that Mexico border
They chase us like rustlers, like outlaws & theives

Chorus

We died in your hills and we died on your deserts
We died in your valleys and died on your plains
We died in your trees and we died in your bushes
Both sides of the river we died just the same.

Chorus

The skyplane caught fire over Los Gatos canyon
Like a fireball of lightning it shook all our hills
And though our best friends fall scattered like dry leaves
The radio says they are just "deportees."

Chorus

Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards?
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit,
To fall like dry leaves and rot on your topsoil
And be known by no name except "deportees"?

welcome, colorbook

American Flag Pajamas

Author: Sebastian Mendler

Well, the day the towers hit the ground
I knew the world had changed for good
I said goodbye to all my dreams
Of peace and brotherhood

A week went by, I realized
I needed something more
That's when I saw them on the rack
At my local Wal-Mart store

Got some American Flag Pajamas
They're exactly what I need
Tho they're really not that comfortable
and they sometimes make me bleed
Got some American Flag Pajamas
They're red and blue and white
But still I do not understand
Why I can't sleep at night

The Stars and Stripes, they're everywhere
Tho some are old and frayed
It takes a lot of energy
To prop up a charade

But still we bluster onward
'Cause if we stop, we'll die
And when you've given up your dreams
There's nothin' else to try

'Cause in my American Flag Pajamas
there's nothing they can do
no terrorist will get me
if I'm in red white and blue
In my American Flag Pajamas
The blue the white the red

So why do I still hear the screams
Somewhere in my head...
Why are their faces in my dreams
The countless thousands dead...
Why is the very ground, it seems
Shaking beneath my bed...

If they will not let me have my dreams
Maybe I'll get up instead
Maybe I should rise instead
Maybe we should rise instead
If they will not let us have our dreams
Maybe we should rise instead

Copyright 2003 Skip Mendler

You might want to start here.


The Roosevelt Presence by Patrick J. Maney is a concise, well-written, and balanced biography of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Within approximately two hundred pages, Maney stresses the development of the Roosevelt image and legacy. The emphasis here is on Roosevelt the man and the characteristics that secured his position as one of the most significant presidents of the United States. In a chronological framework, Maney presents a brief account of the specific programs Roosevelt organized to steer the country through the Great Depression and World War II. The author argues persuasively that Roosevelt inspired confidence because of a deep sense of optimism, a faith in progress, and an aggressive style of leadership. These traits were the basis for Roosevelt's success as president and for a favorable reputation in American history.

Maney begins his study with an exploration of Roosevelt's early years. Roosevelt had a privileged childhood and a name that offered a distinct advantage for a political candidate in New York. He also entered politics at an opportune time. With other Progressives, Roosevelt worked as a reformer to correct political and social injustices. When the mood of the nation shifted in the 1920s, Roosevelt adjusted his focus and became a proponent of business. Throughout his public life, Maney suggests, FDR anticipated the temper and direction of the American public.

Two crises in the early 1920s threatened to bring an end to a promising political career. Although his affair with Lucy Mercer had a profound impact on his personal life, the damaging effects of polio severely restricted Roosevelt's pursuit of elective office. The struggle to overcome paralysis, however, removed FDR from politics at a time when the Republican party dominated and when factions split the Democrats. Moreover, polio forced Roosevelt later to act more deliberately and with a greater empathy for those with disabilities.

Maney argues that Roosevelt's leadership during the Great Depression was all the more successful because of an active and capable Congress. The role of the president in the implementation of the New Deal programs was one of leadership and education of the public rather than as creator of legislation to ease the economic crisis. With his "fireside chats," FDR informed the public and created what Maney writes was an "illusion of intimacy" between the president and the American people. Confidence, assurance, and enthusiasm encouraged the public to view Roosevelt as a savior during both the Depression and the war that followed.

Maney concludes with a strong chapter on Roosevelt's legacy. Here the discussion centers on the presidents who attempted to follow in his footsteps. According to the author, the Roosevelt legacy is replete with ironies. For example, FDR received more credit for legislation than he actually accomplished, and he left little direction or precedent for the president of the postwar era who had to address the crucial issues of the Cold War and the civil rights movement. As in his role as president, the exuberant personality of Roosevelt continues to dominate his legacy.

Although Maney does not examine in detail every facet of the Roosevelt presidency, his narrow focus provides a clear understanding of FDR's legacy that would he lost in a broader analysis. The Roosevelt Presence is an important addition to the historiography of the Roosevelt years and will enhance any scholar or general reader's knowledge of that vital period in U.S. history.

Judith K Johnson Wichita State University

COPYRIGHT 1994 Phi Alpha Theta, History Honor Society, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group

that is one place to start for sure... thank you Edgar

Capetown

She sparkles like a diamond
Look at all her people
Look at them dance, look at them laugh
Singing a song
They make like happy children
Wearing friendly faces
Everyone knows, everyone knows where they belong
Where they belong

Capetown, I'm drowning in your beauty
Capetown, but my heart's not feeling nicely
Capetown, angels black, white of sin
Capetown, there's a shadow on your mountain
Capetown, there's a flaw in your sparkle
Capetown, there's a crying at your crossroads
Let me in, let me in, let me in

The rush of silky color
The sound of Dixie Banjos
Mongrel melodies in quarter tones
Streets of Malay marchers
Hatted in their feathers
The lilt, the lilt of xhosa Saxophones, xhosa saxophones

Capetown, there's a hole at the heart of you
A hole where district six used to be
Capetown, now brown ghosts are dancing
To be free, oh to be free
Capetown, there's an island in your ocean
Capetown, where black blood is running
Capetown, hear the voices calling from your sea
You belong to me, oh you belong to me,hmm

Tidy whitewashed houses
Sprays of wild flowers
The heart and soul of gentility
The vineyards, and the orchards
Warm white sandy beaches
Old and graceful luxury

Capetown, they're squatting in your desert
Capetown, in shanties made of plastic
Capetown exiles in your homeland
Capetown, struggling with your reason
Capetown, holding back your madness
Capetown, it's a bitter fruit you harvest
Capetown, oh, oh

Capetown I'm drowning in your beauty
Capetown, but my heart's not feeling nicely
Capetown, angels black, white of sin

Capetown there's a shadow on your mountain
Capetown, there's a flaw in your sparkle
Capetown, there's a crying at your crossroads
Let me in, let me in, let me in

Capetown, it's a bitter fruit you harvest
Capetown, let me in, ah let me in
Capetown you belong to me,
Capetown you belong to me

Ballad of a Thin Man

You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard
But you don't understand
Just what you'll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says
"It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?"
And somebody else says, "Where what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God
Am I here all alone?"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel
To be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible"
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

You've been with the professors
And they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of
F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read
It's well known

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Now you see this one-eyed midget
Shouting the word "NOW"
And you say, "For what reason?"
And he says, "How?"
And you say, "What does this mean?"
And he screams back, "You're a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin' around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?



Copyright © 1965; renewed 1993 Special Rider Music

I played this song in my high school band


Yesterday, Depression Bread Line



"Brother, Can You Spare A Dime?"
By E. Y. Harburg & J. Gorney

They used to tell me I was building a dream
And so I followed the mob.
When there was earth to plow or guns to bear
I was always there -- right on the job.

They used to tell me I was building a dream
With peace and glory ahead.
Why should I be standing in line
Just waiting for bread?

Once I built a railroad, made it run,
Made it race against time.
Once I built a railroad -- now it's done.
Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once I built a tower to the sun,
Brick and rivet and lime.
Once I built a tower -- now it's done.
Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits -- gee, we looked swell,
Full of that Yankee-doodle-dom.
Half a million boots went slogging through hell
And I was the kid with the drum!

Custer's Last Stand


In 1876 on that bright summer morn at the Little Big Horn
The arrogant Custer caught a few licks
When he tried to stand up to the Cheyenne and the Sioux
He was confident he'd win the fight
But he underrated the Indian's might

Of White Bull, Iron Lightning, Swift Bear and Gall
Black Moon, Little Wolf, Crazy Horse
And Sitting Bull chief of them all oh, oh
Oh Sitting Bull chief of them all

Oh the Indians tried to live in peace
On that bright summer morn at the Little Big Horn
They signed the treaty that warship cease
The white man was cold he wanted gold
He killed all the buffalo, destroyed the corn
Even brought unknown diseases to the unborn

Custer's Cavalry pressed the attack
On that bright summer morn at the Little Big Horn
They thought they had driven the Indians back
But like a wave came an ocean of braves
Custer exclaimed to the noonday sun
Tell me where all these red-skins is coming from

Well it wasn't long 'for the dust settle down
On that bright summer morn at the Little Big Horn
The soldiers was spread all over the ground
The battle was gone the braves had won
Custer's men had fought their best
But the Indians had stood the test