The GOP Implosion Soundtrack: What will you be listening to as the

Bushies, GOP, RNC, and Fundamentalist Religious Wackjobs go down?

We can make a mix CD!!!!


Here's mine!

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

:D

Take heart my little friend
And push back your seat
Soon we'll be far away
Far from the street
Where you learned how to be
Not what you are
Up on the shoulder
There is a town
With a little motel
And an old movie house
We'll go to a movie
Whatever it is
Whatching the movie
The world's gonna end
And there ain't no place for
A boy and his friends to go
I'll pick some daisies
From the flower bed
Of the galaxy theater
While you clear your head
I thought some daisies
Might cheer you up..

I'm listening to "Freedom" right now! :headbang:

:headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang::headbang:

ALAN PARSONS

You Can Run
Featuring Deep E
Written by Alan Parsons and David Pack

I know you're out there
Cuz I can feel ya
Yeah I can feel ya trying to pull me down
I know your kind
You kinda like it
When people tell ya not to come around
Here's looking at ya
Been nice to know ya
I see the lines written on your face
I wish you well
But I gotta tell ya
Ain't nothing human ‘bout the human race

You can run
But you can't look behind you
You can hide
But the truth's gonna find you

Some people fight it like some disease
They carry secrets to an early grave
They try to fake it
While on their knees
Never knowing what they really crave
They got no values
They got no soul
No sense of purpose
Nothing to believe
Call me your friend
Then steal me blind
To me you're nothing but a common thief

You can run
But you can't look behind
You you can hide
But the truth's gonna find you
Holding us within this maze

seems that one is appropraite as Nazis get indicted... the kind of music by Wagner that people were FORCED to play in the camps....

;-)

God money I’ll do anything for you.
God money just tell me what you want me to.
God money nail me up against the wall.
God money don’t want everything he wants it all.

No you can’t take it
No you can’t take it
No you can’t take that away from me
No you can’t take it
No you can’t take it
No you can’t take that away from me

Head like a hole.
Black as your soul.
I’d rather die than give you control.
Head like a hole.
Black as your soul.
I’d rather die than give you control.

Bow down before the one you serve.
You’re going to get what you deserve.
Bow down before the one you serve.
You’re going to get what you deserve.

God money’s not looking for the cure.
God money’s not concerned with the sick among the pure.
God money let’s go dancing on the backs of the bruised.
God money’s not one to choose
No you can’t take it
No you can’t take it
No you can’t take that away from me
No you can’t take it
No you can’t take it
No you can’t take that away from me

Head like a hole.
Black as your soul.
I’d rather die than give you control.
Head like a hole.
Black as your soul.
I’d rather die than give you control.

Bow down before the one you serve.
You’re going to get what you deserve.
Bow down before the one you serve.
You’re going to get what you deserve.

Bow down before the one you serve.
You’re going to get what you deserve.
Bow down before the one you serve.
You’re going to get what you deserve.

Head like a hole.
Black as your soul.
I’d rather die than give you control.
Head like a hole.
Black as your soul.
I’d rather die than give you control.

Bow down before the one you serve.
You’re going to get what you deserve.
Bow down before the one you serve.
You’re going to get what you deserve.

You know who you are.

http://users.forthnet.gr/ath/soutsi/fasc.htm

And the song my partner wrote:

Mission One
Original Derivitives..
http://originalderivatives.tripod.com/

"Oliver's Army"

"Revolution" :headbang:

and Rickie Lee Jones' CD "Evening of My Best Day"
the WHOLE CD over and over and over...especially the first track "Ugly Man" written especially for GWB :headbang:

My Sweet Neocon

so FUCK YOU!" . . . Harry Nilsson . . .

Ashes In Your Mouth


People have round shoulders from fairing heavy loads
And the soldiers liberate them, laying mines along their roads
Sorrow paid for valor is too much to recall
Of the countless corpses piled up along the wailing wall

Melting down all metals, tturning plows and sheats to swords
Shun words of the Bible, we need implements of war
Chalklines and red puddles of those who have been slain
Destiny, that crooked schemer, says the dead shall rise again

Where do we go from here?
And should we really care
The end is finally here
God have mercy!

Now we've rewtitten history
The one thing we've found out
Sweet taste of vindication
It turns to ashes in your mouth

If you're fighting to live
It's OK to die !
The answer to your question is ...
Welcome to tomorrow !

Where do we go from here?
God have mercy!

Ugly times call for ugly music, and big slabs of Pantera's monstrous power fifths and throat-shredding vocals fit the bill perfectly. RIP Dime, you're carrying this twisted old fucker through some hard days and I bless you for it.

Working Class Hero by John Lennon

As soon as your born they make you feel small,
By giving you no time instead of it all,
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

They hurt you at home and they hit you at school,
They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool,
Till you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

When they've tortured and scared you for twenty odd years,
Then they expect you to pick a career,
When you can't really function you're so full of fear,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV,
And you think you're so clever and classless and free,
But you're still fucking peasents as far as I can see,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

There's room at the top they are telling you still,
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill,
If you want to be like the folks on the hill,
A working class hero is something to be.
A working class hero is something to be.
If you want to be a hero well just follow me,
If you want to be a hero well just follow me.

You've got covert action
prejudice to extremes
you've got primitive cunning
and high tech means
you've got eyes everywhere
but people see through you

You've got good manipulators
got your store of dupes
you've got the idiot clamour
of your lobby groups
you like to play on fears
but people see through you

You've got instant communication
instant data tabulation
you got the forces of occupation
but you don't get capitulation
cause people see through you

You've got the sounding brass
you've got the triumph of the will
you do what you want to
and we pay the bills
you hype the need for sacrifice
but people see through you

You've got anti-matter language
contrived to conceal
you've been lying so long
you don't know what's real
you're a figment of your own imagination
and people see through you

You've got lip service tributaries
you've got death fetish mercenaries
you hold the tickets to the cemetaries
you're BIG and BAD and SCARY
but people see through you

It's the song I wrote and performed to honor Valerie Plame and for the credits of my film "Rove's War" that many here have been waiting for me to finish and ship.. (I was ill for about a month, really bad, better now tho)

Well, the film is done for those of you at the DU that have been so patient so I'll be sending your copies out in the next two days, meanwhile you can listen to the music I wrote for the credits (actually I wrote all the music in the film and performed that too, but it's a lot more low key)..

and I want to thank each of you for your patience, I apologise profusely but besides being very ill, I wanted to be sure and do a good job, so you'll probably be pleased with the two DVD set, 150+ minutes of hearings, (Downing Street Minutes with Conyers), graphics, hilarious right wing hypocrisy and a Chronology of the Plame outing from the beginning up to this point, that you'll be getting in the mail.

You can hear "Secret Agent Plame" at http://www.takebackthemedia.com

Hope you enjoy, if you do, kick this thread and let me know and pass it around if your would, I want Fitz and Wilson, maybe Rove and Libby to hear this one!

Here are the lyrics:

SECRET AGENT PLAME

There's a gal who led a life of danger
Everyone she met she stayed a stranger
With every move she makes, another story breaks
Odds are her old pals won't see tomorrow
Secret agent Plame, secret agent Plame,
Rove took away your number and gave away your name
Beware of yellow cake that you can't find, gal
The news'll drag your name right through a minefield
Not caring what they'd say
The White House gave you away
Odds are Bush's pals will get a medal,
Secret agent Plame, secret agent Plame
Rove took away your number and gave away your name

lead guitar

Secret agent Plame, secret agent Plame
Rove took away your number and gave away your name
Spying on the Saudi Arabs one day
Being in the paper's Headlines on next day
Oh Karl - let the wrong word slip
And Novak had loose lips
Traitors in the White House can't be fired,
Secret agent Plame, secret agent Plame
Rove took away your number and gave away your name
Secret agent Plame

by Dropkick Murphys

This one's for the workers who toil night and day
By hand and by brain, to earn your pay
For centuries long past for no more than your bread
Have bled for your countries and counted your dead
In the factories and mills, in the shipyards and mines
We've often been told to keep up with the times
For our skills are not needed, they've streamlined the job
And with slide rule and stopwatch, our pride they have robbed

(chorus)
We're the first ones to starve, we're the first ones to die
The first ones in line for that pie in the sky
And we're always the last when the cream is shared out
For the worker is working when the fat cat's about

And when the sky darkens and the prospect is war
Who's given the gun and then pushed to the fore
And expected to die for the land of our birth
Though we've never owned one lousy handful of earth

And all of these things the worker has done
From tilling the fields to carrying the gun
We've been yoked to the plow since time first began
And always expected to carry the can.

We're not gonna take it
no, we ain't gonna take it
we're not gonna take it anymore

(No!)
We've got the right to choose and
there ain't no way we'll lose it
this is our life, this is our song
we'll fight the powers that be just
don't pick our destiny 'cause
you don't know us, you don't belong



Oh you're so condescending
your gall is never ending
we don't want nothin', not a thing from you
your life is trite and jaded
boring and confiscated
if that's your best, your best won't do

Whoa, who
we're right, yeah
we're free, yeah
we'll fight, yeah
you'll see



We're not gonna take it (no!)
no, we ain't gonna take it (your words are weak)
we're not gonna take it anymore

This has always summed up the regime for me.

**********

I've been waiting for something to happen
For a week or a month or a year
With the blood in the ink of the headlines
And the sound of the crowd in my ear
You might ask what it takes to remember
When you know that you've seen it before
Where a government lies to a people
And a country is drifting to war

And there's a shadow on the faces
Of the men who send the guns
To the wars that are fought in places
Where their business interest runs

On the radio talk shows and the T.V.
You hear one thing again and again
How the U.S.A. stands for freedom
And we come to the aid of a friend
But who are the ones that we call our friends--
These governments killing their own?
Or the people who finally can't take any more
And they pick up a gun or a brick or a stone
There are lives in the balance
There are people under fire
There are children at the cannons
And there is blood on the wire

There's a shadow on the faces
Of the men who fan the flames
Of the wars that are fought in places
Where we can't even say the names

They sell us the President the same way
They sell us our clothes and our cars
They sell us every thing from youth to religion
The same time they sell us our wars
I want to know who the men in the shadows are
I want to hear somebody asking them why
They can be counted on to tell us who our enemies are
But they're never the ones to fight or to die
And there are lives in the balance
There are people under fire
There are children at the cannons
And there is blood on the wire

Same stuff. I ain't changin' for that bag O crap!

However, more than the usual amount of alcohol will be involved. :-)

From Dogs

You gotta be crazy, gotta have a real need
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street
You've got to be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed
Then, moving in silently, down wind and out of sight
You've got to strike when the moment is right without thinking

And after awhile, you can work on points for style
Like the club tie and the firm handshake
A certain look in the eye and an easy smile
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to
So that when they turn their backs on you
You'll get the chance to put the knife in


From Pigs (Three different ones)

Big man, pig man
Ha ha, charade you are
You well-heeled big wheel
Ha ha, charade you are
And when your hand is on your heart
You're nearly a good laugh
Almost a joker
With your head down in the pig pen
sayin' "Keep on diggin'"
Pig stain on your fat chin
What do you hope to find
when you're down in the pig mine?
You're nearly a laugh
You're nearly a laugh
But you're really a cry

Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor Beaten why for
Can't take much more
One - Nothing wrong with me
Two - Nothing wrong with me
Three - Nothing wrong with me
Four - Nothing wrong with me
One - Something's got to give
Two - Something's got to give
Three - Something's got to give
Now
Let the bodies hit the floor
Push me again
This is the end
Skin against skin blood and bone
You're all by yourself but you're not alone
You wanted in now you're here
Driven by hate consumed by fear
Let the bodies hit the floor

:D

the harder they fall

one and all. :bounce:

as they go down doWN DOWN in a ring of fire, flames getting higher.

And pretty much everything Rage Against the Machine ever recorded.

Otis Redding's version.

Lyrics:

Amen...
Amen...
Amen, Amen, Amen.

(repeat)