Tears of Rage

southampton dock

they disembarked in 45
and no one spoke and no one smiled
there were too many spaces in the line
gathered at the cenotaph
all agreed with the hand on heart
to sheath the sacrificial knifes

but now

she stands upon southampton dock
with her handkerchief
and her summer frock clings
to her wet body in the rain
in quiet desparation knuckles
white upon the slippery reigns
she bravely waves the boys goodbye again

and still the dark stain spreads between
his shoulder blads
a mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves
and when the fight was over
we spent what they had made
but in the bottom of our hearts
we felt the final cut

When The Tigers Broke Free
Pink Floyd

It was just before dawn
One miserable morning in black 'forty four.
When the forward commander
Was told to sit tight
When he asked that his men be withdrawn.
And the Generals gave thanks
As the other ranks held back
The enemy tanks for a while.
And the Anzio bridgehead
Was held for the price
Of a few hundred ordinary lives.

And kind old King George
Sent Mother a note
When he heard that father was gone.
It was, I recall,
In the form of a scroll,
With gold leaf and all.
And I found it one day
In a drawer of old photographs, hidden away.
And my eyes still grow damp to remember
His Majesty signed
With his own rubber stamp.

It was dark all around.
There was frost in the ground
When the tigers broke free.
And no one survived
From the Royal Fusiliers Company C.
They were all left behind,
Most of them dead,
The rest of them dying.
And that's how the High Command
Took my daddy from me.

Queen Victoria,
My father and all his tobacco loved you,
I love you too in all your forms,
the slim and lovely virgin floating among German beer,
the mean governess of the huge pink maps,
the solitary mourner of a prince.

Queen Victoria,
I am cold and rainy,
I am dirty as a glass roof in a train station,
I feel like an empty cast iron exhibition,
I want ornaments on everything,
because my love, she gone with other boys.

Queen Victoria,
do you have a punishment under the white lace,
will you be short with her, will you make her read those little Bibles,
will you spank her with a mechanical corset.
I want her pure as power, I want her skin slightly musty with petticoats
will you wash the easy bidet out of her head?

Queen Victoria,
I'm not much nourished by modern love,
will you come into my life
with your sorrow and your black carriages,
And your perfect
memories.

Queen Victoria,
the Twentieth Century belongs to you and me.
Let us be two severe giants not less lonely for our partnership,
who discolour test tubes in the halls of Science,
who turn up unwelcome at every World's Fair,
heavy with proverbs and corrections,
confusing the star-dazed tourists
with our incomparable sense of loss.

Little Boy Soldiers

Its funny how you never knew what my name was,
Our only contact was a form for the election.
These days I find that you don't listen,
These days I find that we're out of touch,
These days I find that I'm too busy,
So why the attention now you want my assistance -
What have you done for me.

You've gone and got yourself in trouble,
No you want me to help you out.

These days I find that I can't be bothered,
These days I find that its all too much,
To pick up a gun and shoot a stranger,
But I've got no choice so here I come - war games.

I'm up on the hills, playing little boy soldiers,
Reconnaissance duty up at 5:30.
Shoot shoot shoot and kill the natives,
You're one of us and we love you for that.

Think of honour, Queen and country,
You're a blessed son of the British Empire,
God's on our side and so is Washington.

Come out on the hills with the little boy soldiers.

Come on outside - I'll sing you a lullaby,
Or tell a tale of how goodness prevailed.

We ruled the world - we killed and robbed,
The ******* lot - but we don't feel bad.

It was done beneath the flag of democracy,
You'll believe and I do - yes I do - yes I do -
yes I do -

These days I find that I can't be bothered,
To argue withthem well what's the point,
Better to take your shots and drop down dead,
then they send you home in a pine overcoat

With a letter to your mum

Saying find enclosed one son - one medal and a note -
to say he won.

Sag' Mir Wo Die Blumen Sind (Where Have All the Flowers Gone)

Sag mir, wo die Blumen sind,
Wo sind sie geblieben?
Sag mir, wo die Blumen sind,
Was ist geschehen?
Sag mir, wo die Blumen sind,
Mädchen pflückten sie geschwind.
Wann wird man je verstehen,
Wann wird man je verstehen?
Sag mir, wo die Mädchen sind
Männer nahmen sie geschwind.
Sag mir, wo die Männer sind Zogen fort,
der Krieg beginnt.
Sag, wo die Soldaten sind
Über Gräbern weht der Wind.
Sag mir, wo die Gräber sind
Blumen wehen im Sommerwind

Berlin
(Janis Ian/Linda Perry)

I WAS WALKING DOWN A WRONG WAY STREET
I WAS FEELING LIKE A REFUGEE
BERLIN
GOT SHOT BY AN OLD MAN'S EYES
GOT PINNED LIKE A BUTTERFLY
BERLIN

THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A HAPPY LOVE SONG
THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SAPPY SONG FOR YOU
THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A HAPPY LOVE SONG

SAW A WOMAN ON A BRIDGE LAST NIGHT
SHE WAS STANDING ON THE EDGE OF LIFE
BERLIN
I WAS DEAFENED BY THE ANXIOUS CROWD
THEY WERE YELLING JUMP RIGHT NOW

THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A HAPPY LOVE SONG
THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SAPPY SONG FOR YOU

THERE'S A LADY LAYING IN MY BED
ANGEL FLYING OVERHEAD
BERLIN
THERE'S A NEEDLE LAYING ON THE FLOOR
AND A LETTER SAYING
PLEASE NO MORE

THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A HAPPY LOVE SONG
THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SAPPY SONG FOR YOU
THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A HAPPY LOVE SONG






--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

another Janis Ian
Breaking Silence

Come into my solitude
tho i weary be
COme into my tenderness
dream along with me
listen to the wispers sing
listen to the singers shout
come into my solitude
me and my big mouth

thoughts unspoken thoughts unsaid
lies of hearth and home
children broken on the bed and left to lie alone
things you talk around
scum you chock on down
come into my solitude
step on sacred ground

we were speaking
of values and violence
breaking silence

fathers who are lovers to the daughters that they own
mothers who dont leave a child in a single saftey zone
people so unhinged, that death is much to kind
come into my solitude, step over that line

thought i was the only one
thought i was the only one
thought i was the only
thought i was the only
only one
breaking silence

come into my solitude
welcome to the wheel
come into this wonderland
of wounds that will not heal
walls that do not speak
steps that do not sound
come into my solitude
burn this building down

The Ballad of John and Yoko

Standing in the dock at Southampton
Trying to get to Holland or France.
The man in the mac said you've got to go back,
You know they didn't even give us a chance.
Christ! You know it ain't easy,
You know how hard it can be.
The way things are going,
They're going to crucify me.
Finally made the plane into Paris,
Honeymooning down by the Seine.
Peter Brown called to say,
You can make it OK,
You can get married in Gibraltar near Spain.
Christ! You know it ain't easy,
You know how hard it can be.
The way things are going,
They're going to crucify me.
Drove from Paris to the Amsterdam Hilton,
Talking in our beds for a week.
The newspapers said, say what're you doing in bed,
I said we're only trying to get us some peace.
Christ! You know it ain't easy,
You know how hard it can be.
The way things are going,
They're going to crucify me.
Saving up your money for a rainy day,
Giving all your clothes to charity.
Last night the wife said,
Oh boy, when you're dead you don't take nothing with you but your soul -
Think!
Made a lightning trip to Vienna,
Eating choc'late cake in a bag.
The newspapers said,
She's gone to his head,
They look just like two Gurus in a drag.
Christ! You know it ain't easy,
You know how hard it can be.
The way things are going,
They're going to crucify me.
Caught the early plane back to London,
Fifty acorns tied in a sack.
The men from the press said we wish you success,
It's good to have the both of you back.
Christ! You know it ain't easy,
You know how hard it can be.
The way things are going,
They're going to crucify me.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

http://www.johnlennon.it/

Half A Century High
By Phil Ochs

In the tube where I was born
I could have sworn
There was so much to see
There was so little to be
But I was free
World at my command
Through the dots I ran
Looking for a man who looked like me
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high

In the tube where I was raised
I was amazed
On the pictures I would lean
That went flashing on the screen
Oh, I was dazed
But then my eyes were made
hypnotized insane (?)
Buried in my brain
In a blinding blaze
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high

In the tube where I was grown
I was alone
The figure on the floor (Laying on the floor)
The dream behind the door (I'd lock the closet door)
The sound was low
Ballgames on the street
Disappeared behind my feet
Out of breath my heart would be
To see another show
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high

In the tube where I was made
I was afraid
Spinning through the space
another scene, another face,
Another shade
Mirror of my mind
On electric wheels of wine
Living on the lines that were displayed
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high

In the tube where I was fed
I lost my head
I watch the lives they led
Watch them to the end
And then again
An open kind of laugh
I gave all the mind I had
And whenever I was sad
I had my friends
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high

In the tube where I was killed
I was fulfilled
Such an easy way to win
Talking to my twin
No sign of sin
the sacrifice was small
fascination was the fall
I was extended by the wall that held me in
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high

In the tube where I was killed
I was fulfilled
The lies of light would bend
I'd stare until the end
And then again
Faded and the fad
I gave all the mind I had
And whenever I was sad
I had my friends
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high

In the tube where I was born
I could have sworn
There was so much to see
There was so little to be
But I was free
World at my command
Through the dots I ran
Looking for a man who looked like me
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high

Pretty Good Day

I slept through the night, I got through to the dawn
I flipped a switch and the light went on
I got out of bed and I put some clothes on
It’s a pretty good day so far

I turned the tap, there was cold there was hot
I put on my coat to go to the shop
I stepped outside, and I didn’t get shot
It’s a pretty good day so far

I didn’t hear any sirens or explosions
No murders coming in form those heavy guns
No UN tanks, I didn’t see one
It’s a pretty good day so far

No snipers in windows, taking a peak
No people panic, running scared through the streets
I didn’t see any bodies without arms, legs, or feet
It’s a pretty good day

There was plasma bandages and electricity
Food, wood, and water; and the air was smoke free
No camera crews from my TV

It was all such a strange sight to be home
Nobody was frightened, wounded, hungry, or cold
And the children seemed normal, they didn’t look old
It’s a pretty good day so far

I walked through a park, you would not believe it
There in the park, there were a few trees left
And on some branches, there were a few leaves

I slept through the night, got through to the dawn
I flipped the switch and the light went on
I wrote down my dream, I wrote this song
It’s a pretty good day so far

Tracy Chapman - Freedom Now


They throwed him in jail
And they kept him there
Hoping soon he'd die
That his body and spirit would waste away
And soon after that his mind

But every day is born a fool
One who thinks that he can rule
One who says tomottow's mine
One who wakes one day to find
The prison doors open the shackles broken
And chaos in the street

Everbody sing we're free free free free
Everbody sing we're free free free free
Everbody sing we're free free free free

They throwed him in jail
And they kept him there
Hoping his memory'd die
That the people forget how he once led
And fought for justice in their lives

But every day is born a man
Who hates what he can't understand
Who thinks the answer is to kill
Who thinks his actions are god's will

And he thinks he's free free free free
Yes he thinks he's free free free free
He thinks he's free free free free

Soon must come the day
When the righteous have their way
Unjustly tried are free
And people live in peace I say
Give the man release
Go on and set your conscience free
Right the wrongs you made
Even a fool can have his day

Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free

Free our bodies free our minds
Free our hearts
Freedom for everyone
And freedom now

Freedom now
Freedom now
Freedom now

Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free

Gil Scott-Heron's Lyrics to
"Revolution Will Not Be Televised"

You will not be able to stay home, brother.

You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.

You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip,

Skip out for beer during commercials,

Because the revolution will not be televised.



The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox

In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.

The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon

blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John

Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat

hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.

The revolution will not be televised.



The revolution will not be brought to you by the

Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie

Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.

The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.

The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.

The revolution will not make you look five pounds

thinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.



There will be no pictures of you and Willie May

pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,

or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.

NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32

or report from 29 districts.

The revolution will not be televised.



There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down

brothers in the instant replay.

There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down

brothers in the instant replay.

There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being

run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.

There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy

Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and

Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving

For just the proper occasion.



Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville

Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and

women will not care if Dick finally gets down with

Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people

will be in the street looking for a brighter day.

The revolution will not be televised.



There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock

news and no pictures of hairy armed women

liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.

The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,

Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom

Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth.

The revolution will not be televised.



The revolution will not be right back after a message

bbout a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.

You will not have to worry about a dove in your

bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.

The revolution will not go better with Coke.

The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.

The revolution will put you in the driver's seat.



The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,

will not be televised, will not be televised.

The revolution will be no re-run brothers;

The revolution will be live.

F the CC
Steve Earle

I used to listen to the radio
And I don't guess they're listenin' to me no more
They talk too much but that's okay
I don't understand a single word they say
Piss and moan about the immigrants
But don't say nothin' about the president
A democracy don't work that way
I can say anything I wanna say

So f*ck the FCC
F*ck the FBI
F*ck the CIA
Livin' in the motherf*ckin' USA

People tell me that I'm paranoid
And I admit I'm gettin' pretty nervous, boy
It just gets tougher everyday
To sit around and watch it while it slips away
Been called a traitor and a patriot
Call me anything you want to but
Just don't forget your history
Dirty Lenny died so we could all be free

Sgt. Pepper Revisited

For those who have recognized some parallels between Iraq and Vietnam and have been around long enough to know and appreciate the Beatle's " Sgt Pepper Album. Will enjoy some new lyrics that have recently surfaced. thanks to some unknown genius (please identify yourself and take credit for a job well done) who posted them on an Al Franken forum

We’re John Ashcroft’s Holy Gun Nut Band.
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo


It was thirty years ago today,
Gordon Liddy taught the band to play,
They’ve been going in and out of style,
But they’re guaranteed the law defile.
So let me re-introduce to you,
The Act you feared all these years,
John Ashcroft’s Holy Gun Nut Band.

We’re John Ashcroft’s Holy Gun Nut Band.
The anti-abortionist hit squad.
We’re John Ashcroft’s Holy Gun Nut Band.
And we do in the name of God.
John Ashcroft’s Holy, John Ashcroft’s Holy,
John Ashcroft’s Holy, Gun Nut Band.

It’s wonderful to be back, just like in ’72.
Since then we’ve gotten really big!
We like to make you bow to us
We like to make you bow.

We don’t really want be exposed.
But there’s something you might like to know.
No country is too big to coup.
If we must we’ll do it to you.
So let me introduce to you
Proof that you ought to fear
John Ashcroft’s Holy Gun Nut Band.


A little help from my friends
(Sung by Ahmed Chalabi)
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo

What would you say if I turned out a spy?
Would you stand me up against the wall?
Lend me your ears and I spin you a line,
And I’ll try this time to tell it all.
I got by with a little help from my friends.
Yeah, I climbed high with a little help from my friends.
Gonna fly along with a little help from my friends.

What did I say to make Cheney drool?
(Does it worry, that nothing was true?)
Flowers and hugs and nukes! What a fool!
(Are you sad that you’re now one too?)
No, I get by with a little help from my friends.
Yeah, gonna fly with a little help from my friends.
Gonna blackmail if I got to all my friends.

(Did you fool anybody?)
Only the ones who wanted to.
(Could it be anybody?)
Just the ones who wanted to rule.

(Could you believe their thoughts were so light?)
Yes, it certainly happens all the time.
(Why can’t they win when they have all that might?)
It’s their way of seeing others as slime.

(Double-cross anybody?)
I still have boxes of files.
(You bitter with anybody?)
I still have boxes of files.
No, I get by with a little help from my friends.
Yeah, I’ll get free with a little help from my friends.
Maybe I’ll fry with a little help from my friends.


Who’s me in this lie? I’m crying!
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo

(Sung by George Bush during a White House meeting)

Picture yourself in a room by a river,
Surrounded by aides all brighter than you.
Somebody calls me, I answer not hardly,
A girl with collide-with-hope eyes.

Yellowing reports my eyes never read,
Towering over my head.
Look for the girl to read them to me,
And she’s gone!

Who’s me in this lie? I’m crying!
Who’s me in this lie? I’m crying!
Who’s me in this lie? I’m crying!

Follow Dick down to an empire of oil,
Where tuxedoed people eat marsh duck pie.
Everyone’s paying a price for my power,
But the reasons are passing me by.

Newspaper clippings appear on my shelf,
Waiting to be understood.
I don’t comprehend them, read them yourself!
If you think it’ll do any good.

Who’s me in this lie? I’m crying!
Who’s me in this lie? I’m crying!
Who’s me in this lie? I’m crying!

Picture yourself in a plane near a desert,
A Styrofoam turkey you’re holding up high.
Someone behind you is making decisions
A man with collide-with-hope eyes.

I Can’t Admit It’s Getting Worse
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo

Sung by Don Rumsfeld

I Can’t Admit It’s Getting Worse,
At first it was just the Sand.
Holding us back from Saddam,
In three weeks or less,
We’d prove ourselves best,
Beginning to reverse all Islam.

I Can’t Admit It’s Getting Worse,
A little worse all the time.
I Can’t Admit It’s Getting Worse,
A little Worse since Baghdad has been mine.
Getting So much worse all the time.

We ran into angry young men.
We’re they Uday’s faydayeen?
They gave us no word,
It was getting absurd,
We’re doing the best that we can.

I Can’t Admit It’s Getting Worse,
A little worse all the time.
I Can’t Admit It’s Getting Worse,
A little Worse since Iraq’s been mine.

I used to be cruel to their women,
Beat them and kept them apart from the kids that they loved,
Man I was mean,
But I’m changing my scene,
We’re doing the best that we can.

I Can’t Admit It’s Getting Worse,
A little worse all the time.
I Can’t Admit It’s Getting Worse,
A little Worse since Iraq’s been mine.


I’m Fixing a Vote
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo

(Sung by Jeb Bush)

I’m Fixing a vote where democracy gets in,
And stop my bro’ from losing,
Where he would go…
I’m purging the lists where the Democrats are
And keep Kerry from the White House
Where he would go…

And it really doesn’t matter if we count it right
We’ll still get it right.
Where it belongs.
See the people standing by who disagree and never win,
And wonder why they don’t get in the door.

I’m rigging the vote in a colorful way
It’ll now be done ‘lectronically
Where the recount goes…

And it really doesn’t matter if we count it right
We’ll still get it right.
Where it belongs.
See the people standing by who disagree and never win,
And wonder why they don’t get in the door.

We’re taking the time for a number of things
That were restricted yesterday
Where did it go…
I’m Fixing a vote where democracy gets in,
And stops my bro’ from losing,
Where he would go…

She Dropped the Ball
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo

Tuesday Morning at 8 o’clock as the days begins.
Silently mounting the airplane ramp.
Five Saudi men with foreheads so damp.
Condi’s down in the kitchen clutching a Russian brief.
Quietly thinking of space-based rays.
Already forgotten what Dick Clarke says.

She (Berger gave her all of their files)
has dropped (Exposed most of their wiles)
the ball (Did everything but give her the flights).
She dropped the ball never looking at all
at the many tips. Bye, Bye.

Nine o’clock and the morning’s sunny, the first tower burns,
Flight 175 makes its final turn.
Grabs her cell phone and calls her husb…boss
“My how our pilots can’t fly”
How can they fly planes so thoughtlessly?
This is the land of the Brave and Free.

She (We never thought for ourselves)
has dropped (We just thought of ourselves)
the ball (We struggled hard all our lives to get rich).
She dropped the ball doesn’t remember at all
The PDB’s tip. Bye, Bye.

Tuesday morning at eleven o’clock the two towers lay
Canceling the appointment she made
To talk of more missiles in space
She (We never knew what was wrong)
has dropped (We want to make Carlysle strong)
the ball (Power is the one thing that money can buy).

Some threat outside that was always denied,
Because it came from Bill.
She dropped the ball. Bye, Bye.

For the Benefit of Mr. Lay
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo

For the benefit of Mr. Lay,
Dick will write if you just pay,
A sum obscene.
The Anderssens will all be there, Kozlowskis next, Ebber’s here!
What a scene!
Over the poor, their needs, their jobs, their cares!
Lastly through a hog trough of real power.
In this way, Kenney Lay will conquer the world!

The Mysterious Mr. Duck,
Hunts with Tony for good luck.
His day in court!
The oil moguls will dance and sing.
The 5-4 vote the Supremes will bring.
The law abort!

Messrs L and C assure the public
Their energy policy is second to none.
And of course John Q Public foots the bill!

The secret group meets all week,
No tickets sold, so don’t you seek
To have a look.
And Mr. C will demonstrate
How fun it is to be on the take.
And cook the books!

Having been some years in preparation
Two-grand a plate, entrée, drink and all.
And tonight Mr. L goes up to the Hill.


Within you and without you
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo

The Media Song

We were talking—about the graft we all can see
But the people—we stuff behind the wall, of illusion
Never show the truth
—then it’s far to late
—when they vote today.

We were talking—about the lies we could expose.
And we know it.
We do our best to hold from you—the ugly truth
With the truth—with the truth we could save the world
—if we only dared.

Try to realize it’s all about ourselves
No one can else can make us change.
And to see we’re only really very scared
and news flows within you and without you.

We were talking—about the ads we’d no longer sell,
and the people—who’d call us Liberals and “go to hell”
The love FOX
—they don’t wanna know
—Are you one of them?

When you’ve seen beyond TV—then you may see
—democracy is waiting there
And the time may come when you see
We’re all one, and news flows within you and without you.

When I’m sixty four
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo

When I get older needing a pill,
Many years from now.
Will I have to order from the Internet?
Canadian pills I here cannot get?

Will there be custom agents galore
Drawn guns around my door?
Will I be healthy, have to buy stealthy?
When I’m sixty-four.

You’ll be bolder too!
And if you say the word!
I’ll alibi for you!

We could get caught driving our car.
seat cushions full of pills.
Trying to help our neighbors try to stay alive.
Next week, thank God, it’s their turn to drive.
We could get life in prison or worse,
Live in the old-folks home!
Will we get bed pans? Or empty soup cans?
When we’re sixty-four.

Every summer we can pick tomatoes
To earn a needed buck, if my heart holds out.
We shall scrimp and save.
Grandchildren on foreign soil
sending C.A.R.E. packages to us.

Send me some statins, spironolactone,
Some Paxil, wadda ya’ say?
Get you hands on whatever you can get today,
Yours sincerely, wasting away.

I’ve written to W, he sent me a form:
“Contribute a little bit more.”
You’re not the needy, if you’re not the greedy
Better luck when you’re sixty-four.”

Lynndie England Beater Maid
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo

Lynndie England Beater Maid
Lynndie England Beater Maid
Lynndie England Beater Maid
Where would we be without you?
Listened to Don and got it wrong you say?

Went to war to save a nation.
Anal rape is our salvation?
Grinning like a fox with her thumbs in the air.
In her boots she looked quite German
Screwing every Dick, Jane and Herman
Trying to prove to Muslims we’re better than they.

Lynndie England Beater Maid
May I inquire discretely,
Why were you free to act so savagely?
I do believe you did as told.
The blame goes up, but you’ll be sold
To take the fall for the higher-up men.

You came from home with what you’ve learned
From a land where crosses burn.
And half the population thinks exactly like you!

Oh, Lynndie England Beater Maid,
Where would be without you?
Give us a thumb, such a dumb dumb thing to do.


Good Morning, Good Morning
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo

(Sung in some lonely US outpost in Iraq)

Nothing to do to save his life, called is wife in,
Nothing to say but war’s that way, send more gin.
Nothing to do, it’s up to you,
I’ve got nothing to say but war’s our way.
Good Morning, Good Morning …

We sent him to ´jaf, without a vest,
no escort,
BlackWater was paid, but they stayed away,
There’s no report.
Everyone knows nobody’s looking!
So many firms and each one is cooking!
Each one charging what it wants!
The ones who care are only cunts!
Good Morning, Good Morning …

After a year, you’ll start to hear,
There’s no end.
Should be at home, but they found,
no one else to send.
Nothing has changed it’s still the same,
I have nothing to say but war’s that way.
Good Morning, Good Morning …

Generals come and hand out beer!
Hire a firm to bring it here!
They send it here in trucks at night!
They hit a mine and burned real bright!

Someone needs to scream, we got TV,
Fox News’ on.
Questionnaires screen, who gets seen
who’s put on.
Go to your cot and find it’s too hot.
I have nothing to say but war’s that way.
Good Morning, Good Morning …


[/b]We’re John Ashcroft’s Holy Gun Nut Band. (Reprise)
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo[/b]

We’re John Ashcroft’s Holy Gun Nut Band.
Don’t go whining ‘bout civil rights.
We’re John Ashcroft’s Holy Oily Gun Nut Band.
We have you right in our sights.
John Ashcroft’s Holy,
John Ashcroft’s Holy,
John Ashcroft’s Holy,
John Ashcroft’s Holy,
John Ashcroft’s Holy Gun Nut Band.
We’d like you all to leave some hair.
We’re John Ashcroft’s Holy Oily Gun Nut Band.
Our database is nearly here.

John Ashcroft’s Holy,
John Ashcroft’s Holy,
John Ashcroft’s Holy Gun Nut Band.


A Day in the Life
--Words and music by John Lennon, Paul McCartney and BedtimeForBonzo

I fled the news again, oh boy!
And found a better land on my TV!
And though the shows are much the same,
It’s all I want to see.
I can’t face misery.

Bad cop shows, I can stand.
They teach me about minorities.
In sitcoms some are tame,
Just stay on the screen.
That’s as close to them as I ever want to be.

I saw a film today, oh boy!
That’s the way I want my life to be!
Gold inlay on every door,
And every woman beautiful,
Except for all the crooks cause that is how we’re keeping score.
I love to turn it on.

Woke up, stayed in bed,
Remote controlled across my head.
Hit rewind, so I could find,
Series from last night, can’t fall behind.

Found the part where lovers sigh,
Played it twice, what a manly guy.
Grabbed a bag of chips from under the bed,
Along with smoke and Coke half-dead.


I skipped the pews today again,
Who needs church when it’s on TV?
The preacher says that there’s a war.
We’ll I just switch from there,
Watch Ginger Rogers dance with Fred Astaire,
I love to turn it on.

to the tune of Jimmy Buffets - Cheeseburger in Paradise


World's Ruler It's Paradise

Tried to defend my cowboy like habits
Did it several times a day
Took my time defeating people asking for peace
Lined up John Ashcroft asked him to take them away.

But at night I have these wonderful dreams
Some kind of stupendous feat.
Not diplomacy, words, or U.N. meets
But a big bunker buster that's really quite neat.

Ruling the world is paradise
Heaven on earth with weapons real nice
Not too particular, not too precise
I'm just the world's ruler it's paradise

Heard about a place called the U.N.
They say the same thing again and again;
All fear and dread I'll kill Arabs instead
Well, It reminds me of the men we are going to send.

But times have changed I don't need the U.N.
When I'm in charge I get what I need;
Not just the French, or Germans, or Iraqis
But that American arrogance on which I feed.

Ruling the world is paradise making the rules is really quite nice
Heaven on earth with weapons adds spice
I'm just the world's ruler it's paradise

I like wars with death and quick killin
Plenty of oil wells and lots of new drillin.
A sleek cruise missle and alcohol free beer
Well, good god Almighty I was chosen to steer.

For ruling the world is paradise
Makin' the rules is virtue not vice
Worth every damn bit of sacrifice
To be the world's ruler is paradise
To be the the world's ruler it's paradise
I'm just the world's ruler it's paradise

I like wars with death and quick killin
Plenty of oil wells and lots of new drillin.
A sleek cruise missle and alcohol free beer
Well, good god Almighty I was chosen to steer.

They're rioting in Africa (whistling)
They're starving in Spain (whistling)
There're hurricanes in Cuba (whistling)
And China needs rain (whistling)
The whole world is festering with unhappy souls
The French hate the Germans, the Germans hate the Poles
The Yugoslavs hate Yugoslavs, South Africans hate the Dutch
And I don't like Governor Wallace very much

But you can be tranquil and thankful and proud
For man's been endowed with a mushroom-shaped cloud
Au revoir monsieur president de Gaulle
I told you to sign the treaty sweetie
And we know for certain that some lovely day
Someone will set the spark off
And we shall all be blown away

More Dead to Send Back Home

Big oil and Bush is comin’

America’s on her own

This summer I hear the drummin’

More dead to send back home



Gotta drill down to it

Soldiers are getting gunned down

Al quedia should have been done long ago

What if they knew the truth and

Saw the blood on the ground

How could they listen to Rush radio



Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na





Gotta drill down to it

Soldiers are getting cut down

Iraq should have been done long ago

What if they knew the truth and

What about these weapons not found

How will they vote if they know



Big oil and Bush is comin’

America’s on her own

This summer I hear the drummin’

More dead to send back home

More dead to send back home

More dead to send back home

More dead to send back home

More dead to send back home

More dead to send back home

More dead to send back home

More dead to send back home

More dead to send back home

_______________________________

Crosby Stills Nash Young - Four Dead In Ohio Lyrics

Tin soldiers and Nixon's comin'.
We're finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drummin'.
Four dead in Ohio.

Gotta get down to it.
Soldiers are gunning us down.
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her and
Found her dead on the ground?
How can you run when you know?

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na.
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na.
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na,
na.
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na.

Gotta get down to it.
Soldiers are cutting us down.
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her and
Found her dead on the ground?
How can you run when you know?

Tin soldiers and Nixon's comin'.
We're finally on our own.
This summer I hear the
drummin'.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.

He sits in your room, his tomb, with a fist full of tacks
Preoccupied with his vengeance
Cursing the dead that cannot set him back
You know that he has no intentions
Of looking your way, unless it's to say
That he needs you to test his inventions.

Can you please crawl out your window?
Use your arms and legs it won't ruin you
How can you say he will haunt you?
You can go back to him any time you want to.

He looks so truthful, is this how he feels
Trying to peel the moon and expose it
With his businesslike anger and his bloodhounds that kneel
If he needs a third eye he just grows it
He just needs you to talk or to hand him his chalk
Or pick it up after he throws it.

Can you please crawl out your window?
Use your arms and legs it won't ruin you
How can you say he will haunt you?
You can go back to him any time you want to.

He looks so righteous while your face is so changed
Are you frightened of the box you keep him in
While his genocide fools and his friends rearrange
Their religion of the little ten women
That backs up their views but your face is so bruised
Come on out the dark is beginning.

Can you please crawl out your window?
Use your arms and legs it won't ruin you
How can you say he will haunt you?
You can go back to him any time you want to.



Copyright © 1965; renewed 1993 Special Rider Music

"Shipbuilding" by Elvis Costello

Is it worth it
A new winter coat and shoes for the wife
And a bicycle on the boy's birthday
It's just a rumour that was spread around town
By the women and children
Soon we'll be shipbuilding
Well I ask you
The boy said "Dad they're going to take me task
But I'll be back by Christmas"
It's just a rumour that was spread around town
Somebody said that someone got filled in
For saying that people get killed in
The result of this shipbuilding
With all the will in the world
Diving for dear life
When we could be diving for pearls
It's just a rumour that was spread around town
A telegram or a picture postcard
Within weeks they'll be re-opening the shipyards
And notifying the next of kin
Once again
It's all we're skilled in
We will be shipbuilding
With all the will in the world
Diving for dear life
When we could be diving for pearls