John Brown (Bob Dylan/Your Violent Desires)
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john brown went off to war to drench in blood the desert floor his mama sure was proud of him!
he stood so arrogant and bald, with his uniform and all and his mama's face broke out into a grin
oh son you look so fine, i'm glad you're a son of mine it makes me proud to know you hold a gun.
obey the generals well youll get medals and scholarships and we'll put them on the wall when you get home.
he looked at his his dog tag she petted up his head and she told him to go kill for democracy
but somewhere in his mind he knew somebody was lying, and that force could never make a people free.
well johns train pulled out and his ma began to shout telling every body in the whole neighborhood
that's my son goin out to kill let the arabs pay the bill and she made quite sure her neighbors understood
the tv showed the news and john's ma sat in the pews prayin for to see them arabs die
and all the people saying we're gonna kill saddam hussein kept her looking all around for flags to buy
she got a letter once in a while, she took a drink and had a smile and she showed her drunken face around next door
and she bragged about her son with his shaven head and gun in this thing she called a good old fashioned war
she drank till she was sick a million clocks did tick and ring about the bombs bush said we'd find
and as georges armies marched, a dying for the farce the oil wells started bubblin up behind.
well then the letters ceased to come, she cried and drank her rum no letter came for 15 months or more.
and as the body count piled up john's ma poured out her cup, she was sure she wouldn't see'er son no more.
but then a letter finally came saying go down and meet the train, the war is over even though our boys keep dying
and john's ma she went right down her face fixed in a frown, because she knew our leaders were a-lying.
yes she drove to the station and she tried to have some patience but her son just wasn't nowhere in her sight.
and as all the people passed, she saw her son at last, when she did she could hardly believe her eyes.
well his face was all shot up his hands were both blown off, and he wore a metal brace around his waist
he whispered kind of slow in a voice she did not know and she couldn't even recognize his face
oh tell me darling son what is it to you they've done how is it that you come to be this way
he tried his best to talk but his mouth could hardly move and his mother had to turn her face away
don't you remember ma' when i went off to war, you said i could go to college, pay the loans
but now what will i do i can't take no notes in school and i'll never have a child to call my own
cause the shells they had us fire, well they left me without desire, and i'm sterile from the radiation there.
there's places in that country where no life will live again, you won't belive the mis'ry i'd to bear
mommy dear don't you recall when i got on the train to go, you said it was the best thing i could do
i was out on the battleground you were home a actin proud and you wasn't there a standing in my shoes
just look at us people here, well there's just no freedom here, we all want to live free but just buy trying
and there what hurt me most was when my enemy came close i could see that his face looked just like mine.
and i couldn't help but think thru the thunker rolling stink, that i was just a puppet in the rich man's play
and running through the roar and smoke, i grabbed my throat and choked as a landmine popped and blew my eyes away.
as he turned away to walk, his ma was still in shock, seein the metal brace that helped him stand
but as he moved to go, he held his mother close, and he dropped his medals down into her hand.
Fuck the Vote.
...............
down at the city hall the people cast their party line
fishing for a savior for to represent their minds
but the corporate lobby's millions count way more than your two cents
and it's always economic interests your politician represents
don't fall for the lies, come fallin through the cracks
as their worthless system dies they'd still stab us in the back
they say they represent you but they're just full of themselves
they;ll say they think like you do; ideology sells
trusting in the market they bark and howl and bite
and the people never get control over their own life
no one represents you, politics are absurd
they say they want to understand but they're too sick with words
in the pentagon's inner sanctums, the fascists plot their wars
no one votes the generals in, a million bombs, they still want more
go down to the voting booth and no matter who you pick
the rich still live off others and the poor still eat their shit.
this fascist idiot on the throne didn't need our votes
they've always worked together to get us by the throat
dont buy into the con, dont join the chorus line
the most liberal of the liars keeps the warmachine running fine
when they talk about the people they're just talkin bout the rich
and when i say i'll never vote don't tell me not to bitch
limiting yourself to the choices that you're given
you'll lose your creative mind making someone else a living
half of half of half the people say this suited man's the one
someone else's finger on the button, a new fool behind the guns
are we really living? begging reforms and voting till we're dead
waving flags and believing all the lies that we get fed?
you can lead yourselves, o masses of apathetic slaves
why should you help the profiteers dig you such a shallow grave?
this civilization is nothing but a quickly sinking boat
abstain from this system, sabotage it, fuck the vote.
Fuck Work.
..........
work work work take orders from jerks
waste your time for a wage, live out someone else's days
repeat a little gesture, recite a scripted lie
make objects for the landfills
they say we're only born to buy and die
so drink drink drink or you'll wind up on the brink
of absolute despair way sooner than you think
oh maybe you could pop a pill; 'repressitol'
because otherwise you might decide to revolt
and destroy this world of
work work work where boredom always lurks
where everywhere's the same watch the show and take the blame
and never ever lose control and stay controlled secure and scared
deny the life you've got to share
stay bored bored bored buy commodities to hoard
and never feel fulfilled because all the time you've got has already been killed
watch reflections of your boredom beamed down over the air
and if you go outside and try to live you know the cops will be there
turn on tune in cop out
War Kills Babies
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i just can't wait for the bombs to start falling
the loud salute sounds in the distance it's a-callin'
invest your sons in the war
let them come back deformed
watch the nuclear death drop to earth in a storm
our dumpsters are full while the world's in a famine
our democratic rights were collateral damage
and it's our taxes that go to pay
how many babies did you kill today?
shoot down the poor for the amerikan flag
both privates and generals fit in a body bag
you marched to iraq colombia afghanistan
you followed all the orders but you never understand
for oil and for dictatorships the blood spills to the ground
the politicians throw their fits and the soldiers come around
like dogs, you passively obey
how many babies did you kill today?
cheer for the war and for capital gain
our bombs will clear the way for a world all the same
sign away lives to win your pointless arms race
count the bodies officiously and hide your bloody face all your IMFs and all your pimps of world trade
can never quiet the screaming of the misery you've paid
you cry for new york and forget about panama
how many massacres in the name of god and law?
to you gamblers and soldiers we say
how many babies did you kill today?
Soldiers Bleed Coca Cola (Yankee Stay Home)
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I don't want to get drafted
don't want to fight your gasoline war
governments get more people killed, it's fucking classic
the terrorist is the state; what a bore
well i don't really care about the economy
don't own no stock in the nuclear shield
all i want is to listen to the harmonies
but it's too damn loud to hear them on the killing field
i won't take up arms and shave my head and look the same
i won't get alarmed, i know who's to blame
it's power-crazed Statists with revenge on the mind
and i won't join the front and go to kill my own kind
no one wants the war
the bloody horror show
except of course for those who won't ever have to go
the peasants are thirsty
let them drink oil
i don't want to be your volunteer
my freedom isn't yours to protect
this world doesn't want to get mcdonalds-ized
and i'm not in the mood to join your sect
government creates its constant threats
fills the people's minds with orders and fears
but i'm not going to sit in front of no television set
i've watched you bomb the world with lies for years
well i won't take up arms and kill when they tell me
i'm a conscientious objector to the existence of hierarchy
power-crazed Statists with revenge on the mind
and i won't join the front and go to kill my own kind
no one wants the war,
the bloody horror show
except for those who profit and won't ever have to go.
the peasants are starving
let them eat flags
i don't want to get drafted
don't want to just survive i want to live
government and capital are just loving what they crafted
but they don't carry out the orders that they give
all the wars are holy to the priests of state and money
but i don't believe in gods all soaked in blood
i'd love to see a world of milk and honey
but all that's beautiful gets trampled in the mud
no one wants the war,
the bloody horror show.
the enemy is war
and i'm not gonna go
no one wants the war,
the bloody horror show.
the enemy is war
and no one ought to go
yankee stay home
Boredom is Murder (arm the poets)
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I'm wandering stricken thru the fields of imagined cherries in the wintertime
where the apples are all rotten and eaten by the mice
in this decaying garden of the mind watered by information stolen casually as i browsed thru the desire for cruelty staring from the walls like portraits of rulers long dead like god, and all of these moralities that sabotage the mind and make it boring and bored like all these clown tyrants that drink up oil and blood and shove us every day into thickening mud minefield in your brain, shackled to the rocks as the tide crashes up cascading deluge of wrenched away fragments of you like a wave of cars bursting into debris everywhere the corpses pile up in everyday life, in every small gesture and in the streets a violent silence reigns, and we can only hear the commodities endlessly screaming their prices millions and millions of poor folks wih money with an answer for everything like a cop quickly dismiss me arm the poets who can't afford to pay attention anymore disarm the army boredom is murder. dance with me softly in loving caress across these praries of blooming desire; dream with me, drown the seas in new, blessed spontaneity.
The Commonwealth of Creativity (Your Violent Desires/Ralph Chaplin)
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In the gloom of mighty cities mid the grind of whirling wheels
we are toiling on like chattel slaves of old
and the bosses seek to keep us ever thus beneath their heels
and to coin our very lives into their gold
but we have a glowing dream of how grand the world will seem
when everything and everyone is free.
when the earth's abundance blossoms and there's love and peace for all
in the commonwealth of creativity.
they would keep us cowed and beaten
cringing meekly at their feet
they would stand between each human being and bread
shall we help them fill our world up with their cheap commodities?
are we here just to survive until we're dead?
they have planned our lives out for us til the bitter end of time
will we stagger on the shadow of their bombs?
will we let them live off others in their golden halls of crime?
with our children doomed to blank suburban lawns?
when the economy's abolished and the state has been destroyed and the nightmare of the system fades away, we will live with love and laughter, we with whom this culture toys; there will never be another price to pay.
oh we have a glowing dream of how great the world will seem
when everyone and everything is free.
when the earth's abundance blossoms and there's joy and peace for all
in the commonwealth of creativity.
No plans
...........
i can't wait anymore
i won't never be bored
i won't leave any memoirs i'll pray to no lord my memories are brilliant i've seen what i am i don't need no security or plans. i've been poems and songs and i've drunk my own suns, and i don't care about ego or proof. as this world collapses i glimpse a new life, play freely as nothing is true. it's such a damn shame when everything's the same, i won't accept a world without dreams. i won't forget how to imagine, i won't play the old games, the show's busting open at the seams. oh why, why must we die for abstractions, and live for them never feeling real? i want a whole self i don't want just a fraction, i don't know anything all i can do is feel. my visions of forbidden urges blinded by the night of your morals that rot like your smiles. the veil of repetition that you cling to so tightly snaps as you cry like a child. i can't wait anymore
i won't never be bored
i won't leave any memoirs i'll pray to no lord my memories are brilliant i've seen what i am i don't need no security or plans.
Here's to the police state (Your Violent Desires/Phil Ochs)
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here's to the police state of george bush
in the swamp of his bureaucracy we're always boggin' down
and criminals are posing as advisors to the crown
and they hope that no one sees the sights and no one hears the sounds
and the speeches of the president are the ravings of a clown
oh here's to the land you've torn out the heart of
georgie bush go find yourself another country to be part of.
and here's to the state of johnnie ashcroft
where from all of his security none of us may e'er be safe
and the money that they're spending's never money that they make
and a thousand crimes are hidden for his reputation's sake
he will make his little laws just as fast as they can break
oh here's to the land you've torn out the heart of
johnnie ashcroft find yourself another country to be part of.
and here's to the state of dickie cheney
where corruption and strongarming are just everyday routine
where realities are filthy though appearances are clean
the bureaucracy expands the blood spills from the t.v. screen
and no one seems to remember what that foreign word freedom means
oh here's to the land you've torn out the heart of
dickie cheney find yourself another country to be part of
and here's to the capitalist walton
oh your parking lots, expansive, blot out every living thing
with the drone of your cash registers who can still 'hear freedom ring'?
now every town has got a walmart, hear the sweatshop children sing
and the workers are exploited, loyal to their greenback king
oh here's to the land you've torn out the heart of
sammy walton find yourself another country to make a parking lot of.
homo regimentus
...............
this civilization can't help but rot
for its inhabitants it needs to have robots
rigid man, rigid man
only does what he's told he can
bored and dull, the glowing screens
make quite clear what happiness means
higher pay, more poverty
nothing but prices the eye can see.
rigid man, loosen up
or only blood will fill your cup
run along now, money is time
repress desire, make love a crime
gain capital, invest in war
support your wife, your little whore
sell your labor, sell your mind
poisoned nature's all you'll find
you dream of gaining power,
to wield it o'er the mass
but your NOW is growing sour
because it's sickened by the past
rigid man, brain of steel.
crush the joy that you can't feel.
the loneliness that you deny
gets worse and worse the more you buy.
pollute the air, oil the seas;
your car will never make you free.
rigid man, rigid man,
die of comfort for uncle sam.
boredom merchant touts his wares;
the more you have the less you care.
plastic world, ensure your health.
commute away from yourself.
you gave up your humanity,
held down your sexuality;
but all your sick morality
just makes you a commodity.
you dream of making money
because you can't make love.
your character armor keeps you stiff
as you look down from above.
your hierarchies are all absurd;
your objects have no worth.
and we'll see all empires burn and die
that rape our mother earth.
Your Electronic Leash
...................
call up all your friends and tell em nothins on your mind sell your phony image on your cell phone line 20 cents a minute you can give the blow-by-blow and you won't have a thing to talk about when you get home hold your little gadget to your eager little ear talk away your anxieties insecurities and fears electronic leashes for the in-style crowd obsessing with your small talk if reality's too loud call up all your friends ask them how they've been stay on call in case there's nothing happening oh the money you will spend oh the party never ends talking to yourself on your sell-phone keeps you tied in when you roam. Talk about the commodities you cling to; prove the proud identity you claim. fit the world into a million hierarchies, connected by electrical impulses and ego games. the closer we're together the further we're apart. we keep in touch but nothing's touching. if money talks so loud you can't hear yourself think, it's just your free reality it's crushing. the talk goes on and on but no one's said a thing at all. there ain't no conversation eye to eye or call to call. they sell you this little plastic gadget as a convenience only ends tying you closer to your job everything is just so fucking meaningless, and everyone is such a fucking snob. talking to yourself on your cell phones; convince yourself that you're not alone.
starbucks fuck off (aka where's your culture now?)
.................
starbucks coffee is the place to be
exploited peasants are all right with me
all of our cities will soon look the same
things are dandy since the mermaid came
making money for the boss is grand
i prefer my coffee to be bland
no competition we'll shut it out
there's no roadblocks on the free trade route
they get thirty dollars for a hundred pounds
and the third world farmers never make a sound
while it's fifteen dollars for your ONE POUND bag
advertizements in the glossy mags
don't you love to see our profits grow?
we'll knock you out, but it won't even show.
bitter coffee made with latin blood;
i don't want it, it's just a faceful of mud.
proletarian revolt (recorded in belgium on the street)
...................
oh how long will we be silenced by reforms?
how long will we follow so blindly all the norms?
and when will we stand up all proud and free,
to struggle, fists raised, for anarchy?
oh all the roles played, obeying orders from the boss
and the rules that we follow, unconscious of the loss
of our individuality creativity and dreams
oh how we sigh as we stifle our anguished screams
to keep with our jobs, our slavery;
as if true freedom could be anything but free...
revolt, proletarian; the time of life is short,
and if we live, we live to tread on kings.
occupy the factories, close down all the forts
and listen to the voice inside that sings
organize organize no parties will save us
or bring us to freedom from this abstraction
our desires and our passions will shatter the old world
it's not time for discussion but for action.
oh you feed the economy, the economy feeds you
and consuming useless objects makes you into one too.
no choices allowed but from those they present you
the government capitalizes off what you can't use
FUCK THE PIGS THEY'RE ALREADY DEAD
KILL THE COP INSIDE YOUR HEAD
and as long as we're tricked into playing their games
there'll be nothing to miss,
because it's all the damn same.
revolt, proletarian, they're stealing our lives,
and to get them back we won't have to pay.
no, you can't buy your happiness, steal it it's free
if you take it; it's already made.
and harmonize, harmonize desires and your actions
and hierarchy's snares we'll smash.
our love for ourselves can be love for eachother
if we'd only stop moving so fast.
you know we've been moving too fast.
Lyrics