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It all seemed so idiotic, all the accusations of unpatriotic |
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The fall we'll always remember, capitulating silence |
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Election November before the winter of the long hot summer |
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Somewhere in the desert we raised the oil pressure |
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And waited for the weather to get much better |
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For the new wind to blow in the storm |
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We tried to remember the history in the region |
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The French foreign legion, Imperialism, |
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Peter O'Toole and hate the Ayatollah were all we learned in school |
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Not that we gave Hussein five billion |
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Not of our new bed partner the Syrian |
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And of course no mention of the Palestine situation |
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It was amazing how they steamrolled |
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They said eighty percent approval |
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But there was no one that I knew polled |
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No one had a reason for being in the Gulf |
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We waited for congress to speak up illegal build up |
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But no one would wake up |
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Our representatives were Milli Vanilli's |
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For corporate Dallas Cowboy Beverly Hillbillies |
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With perfect timing the politicians rhyming their sentiments |
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So nicely oil gold and sand my sediments precisely |
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We regretfully support the lunacy |
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I'm afraid there is no time for more scrutiny |
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National unity preserve our community |
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Teflon election opportunities were in profundant abundance |
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On January second the Bush administration |
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Announced a recession had stricken the Nation the highest quarterly |
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Earnings in ten years were posted by Chevron |
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Meanwhile a budget was placed in our hands |
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As the deadline in the sand came to an end |
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So much for the peace dividend one billion a day is what we spent |
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And our grandchildren will pay for it 'til the end |
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When schools are unfunded and kids don't get their diplomas |
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They get used for gun boat diplomacy disproportionately |
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Black or brown we see bullet catchers for the slave master |
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Then the conservatives called up reservists |
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To active service left families nervous but more importantly broke nine Hundred a month but the check came late, army red tape you see |
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This golden opportunity, we watched the tube and read the newspaper |
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The propaganda of the gas masked rape |
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Was the proper slander to whip up the hatred |
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The stage was lit and the lights were all faded |
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The pilots in night vision goggles Kuwaited and generals masturbated |
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'Til the fifteenth two days later they invaded |
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Not a single T.V. station expressed dissension or |
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Hardly made mention to the censorship of information |
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From our kinder and gentler nation blinder and mentaler retardation |
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Disorientation, the pilots said their bombs lit Baghdad |
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Like a Christmas tree, It was the Christian thing to do you see |
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They didn't mention any casualties, no distinction between the real |
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And the proxy only football analogies |
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We saw the bomb hole, we watched the Super Bowl |
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We saw the scud missile, we watched Bud commercials |
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We saw the yellow ribbons, saw pilots in prison |
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We never saw films of the dead at eleven |
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Angela Davis addressed the spectators |
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And shouting above a rumbling generator said |
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"If they insist on bringing us down |
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Then let's shut the whole country down" |
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Marching through the downtown |
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A hundred thousand became participants |
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And we heard the drums of millions off in the distance |
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Rushing through the cities some of them did things that weren't so pretty |
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Most were there for primal scream therapy |
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News men concentrated on the negative liked the jingoists more |
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Peaceful protesters ended up on the cutting room floor |
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Nintendo casualties of the ratings war |
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More bombs dropped than in World War II |
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On in both Asian invasions, new world order persuasion |
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Business as usual for our nation |
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Could you imagine a hundred fifty thousand dead |
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The city of Stockton coffins locked in when we clocked in |
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Not to mention civilians, the loss of life on both sides |
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Pushed the limits of resilience the scent of blood in our nostrils |
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Fuel of the fossil land of apostle |
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The blackness that covered the sky was not the only thing |
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That brought a tear to the eye or the taste of anger to the tongues |
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Of those too young to remember Vietnam |
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Is heroin better in a veteran's mind |
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Than the memory of the dying laying in a line |
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Is it the smell or the shadows heaving and weeping |
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That keeps the soldier from sleeping as he sings the orphan's lullaby |
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When the soldiers put down their bayonets |
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The strings are chained to the marionettes |
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Emir of Kuwait gets back in his jet |
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We replace the dead with new cadets |
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Will we hate those who did the shelling |
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Or will we hate those who weren't willing to do the killing |
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When the leaders of the bald eagles come home to roost |
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Will we sing a song of praise and indebtedness |
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For our deliverance from evil or will we sing a song of sadness |
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For the dreaded debt this mess delivered us people |
