Poetry
Seven trillion dollar man
Look what’s happened in your span
While toasting New Year’s Eve ‘04
As crystal clangs and champagnes pour
You gladly let
The Public Debt
Move past the seventh door
Seven trillion dollar man
What’s your re-election plan?
While boasting lies and threats du jour
The Public Debt
Does not upset
Your failed Phoenician war
Hey seven trillion dollar man
Blinded from the flames you fan
Raiding coffers, fields and ore
You madly bet
This Public Debt
We pay so dearly for
Hey seven trillion dollar man
Pull every sleight of hand you can
To hide the truth and blur the score
Of Public Debt
Which may just yet
Lay bear your evil core
(Author’s note: On New Year’s Eve 2004 the United States National Debt surpassed the $7 trillion mark - sources: U.S. Treasury, and National Debt Clock at Brillig.com)
Look what’s happened in your span
While toasting New Year’s Eve ‘04
As crystal clangs and champagnes pour
You gladly let
The Public Debt
Move past the seventh door
Seven trillion dollar man
What’s your re-election plan?
While boasting lies and threats du jour
The Public Debt
Does not upset
Your failed Phoenician war
Hey seven trillion dollar man
Blinded from the flames you fan
Raiding coffers, fields and ore
You madly bet
This Public Debt
We pay so dearly for
Hey seven trillion dollar man
Pull every sleight of hand you can
To hide the truth and blur the score
Of Public Debt
Which may just yet
Lay bear your evil core
(Author’s note: On New Year’s Eve 2004 the United States National Debt surpassed the $7 trillion mark - sources: U.S. Treasury, and National Debt Clock at Brillig.com)
Chorus:
Sex and Religion,
It's Sex and Religion,
That Old-Time Religion should pack up and leave.
Sex and Religion,
Gimme Sex and Religion --
The greatest combination since Adam and Eve.
Verse 1:
When Bill Clinton and Monica had their affair,
Sacred Confessors popped out everywhere.
They led our President through atonement prayers
And their prayers were answered -- the White House is theirs.
Verse 2:
What they did with a heterosexual affair yesterday,
They're doing today by bashing the gays.
Nothing rallies the faithful and frightens their wives
Like trashing gay clergy, gay schools, and gay lives.
Verse 3:
Soon they'll control the courts and the red, white and blue.
The church will rule the state and they'll both control you.
If you have the kind of sex life that they abhor,
The church and the state will break down your door.
Verse 4:
Now that Gay Marriage is the new boy in town,
They'll amend the Constitution just to keep you down.
They say the gay "life style" is perverted and odd.
Well, they should know best -- they're always talking to God.
Sex and Religion,
It's Sex and Religion,
That Old-Time Religion should pack up and leave.
Sex and Religion,
Gimme Sex and Religion --
The greatest combination since Adam and Eve.
Verse 1:
When Bill Clinton and Monica had their affair,
Sacred Confessors popped out everywhere.
They led our President through atonement prayers
And their prayers were answered -- the White House is theirs.
Verse 2:
What they did with a heterosexual affair yesterday,
They're doing today by bashing the gays.
Nothing rallies the faithful and frightens their wives
Like trashing gay clergy, gay schools, and gay lives.
Verse 3:
Soon they'll control the courts and the red, white and blue.
The church will rule the state and they'll both control you.
If you have the kind of sex life that they abhor,
The church and the state will break down your door.
Verse 4:
Now that Gay Marriage is the new boy in town,
They'll amend the Constitution just to keep you down.
They say the gay "life style" is perverted and odd.
Well, they should know best -- they're always talking to God.
Tin eared zeroes and HollyPukes comin
We finally caught em on their own
This Spring we'll hear the ratta-tat-tatttin
Of DemoCommies gettin what they have sown
Gotta get down to it
The Dirty DemoCommies
are tearin the US down
Shoulda been done long ago
What if you knew the little Iraqi girl?
And saw her mutilated
lyin dead in thr underground?
How could forgive yourself?
Where could you run?
We finally caught em on their own
This Spring we'll hear the ratta-tat-tatttin
Of DemoCommies gettin what they have sown
Gotta get down to it
The Dirty DemoCommies
are tearin the US down
Shoulda been done long ago
What if you knew the little Iraqi girl?
And saw her mutilated
lyin dead in thr underground?
How could forgive yourself?
Where could you run?
my bike is my statement of purpose...
as i slide and i glide
one second from suicide
and the sound of screeching car tires
and busses
and shuttlebusses...
petrolium driven missiles
weapons of mass destruction
distraction
to lives of fast lives and bikinis
and arbitrarily expensive martinis..
i was taught to believe that i NEEDED TO BE TAUGHT.
caught
by 'Copy-Right' and 'Pat-Pending'...
i discovered 'The Power of Lending'
and "Big Mac, Fillet-o-Fish, Quarter-Pounder, French Fries..."
advertise
mesmerize
hypnotize
in movies and publications
full of mental masturbation
25% 'meaning'...
75% ads...
is that the meaning of life?
as in 'i coulda..'
'i shoulda...'
'i woulda...'
done some-thing with my life?..
cause NOW is where i'm living
not 'Making THEIR Living"
selling away opportunities
when right NOW
my bike...
is my statement of purpose.
as i slide and i glide
one second from suicide
and the sound of screeching car tires
and busses
and shuttlebusses...
petrolium driven missiles
weapons of mass destruction
distraction
to lives of fast lives and bikinis
and arbitrarily expensive martinis..
i was taught to believe that i NEEDED TO BE TAUGHT.
caught
by 'Copy-Right' and 'Pat-Pending'...
i discovered 'The Power of Lending'
and "Big Mac, Fillet-o-Fish, Quarter-Pounder, French Fries..."
advertise
mesmerize
hypnotize
in movies and publications
full of mental masturbation
25% 'meaning'...
75% ads...
is that the meaning of life?
as in 'i coulda..'
'i shoulda...'
'i woulda...'
done some-thing with my life?..
cause NOW is where i'm living
not 'Making THEIR Living"
selling away opportunities
when right NOW
my bike...
is my statement of purpose.
Shocked and awed, I was today, as I read the news of Americas way.
I wasn't reading the traditional sources, this info was from new discourses.
I read about the U.S.A., thier actions are different than what they say.
With forked tongues they speak, about the sanctity of life.
Careful my friend, behind thier back is a knife.
The richest of the world are controlling thier hand.
Life isn't important, what we want is your land.
But only if oil, or diamonds, or riches, are found
underneath, they'll come dig thier ditches.
They'll come with thier bombs, thier guns, and thier planes.
They'll blow up, they'll shoot down, they'll kill, and they'll maim.
They'll say its for justice, for honor, for right.
God gave them this mission, God gave them thier might.
Thier news outlets glitter with glee, at this show.
They use catchy phrases and righteous slogans, you know.
They weave all thier lies, they distort the truth.
They don't show the horror, the slaughter of youth.
How many civilians did we kill today?
Ah who cares, they should'nt have been in the way.
(To America in the age of Ashcroft)
We live in the land of comfort,
too soft and satisfied to
understand the subtle threats that
chip away slowly
at the stony foundations of our love.
The tiny pinpricks of mistrust –
the wary eyes, are you listening there
on the other line or is this
phone tapped, is my e-mail being read?
I check your letters, read your notes,
read the messages you’ve sent
out into the vast wired grid of
knowledge – nothing is sacred
any longer, no bit of privacy too
important to breech.
I look over my shoulder, into
your eyes, wonder if it’s
you or me who’s crossed this line,
or maybe Gary next door or
Sid across the street.
How can I be sure?
We live in the land of comfort,
too soft and satisfied to
understand the subtle threats that
chip away slowly
at the stony foundations of our love.
The tiny pinpricks of mistrust –
the wary eyes, are you listening there
on the other line or is this
phone tapped, is my e-mail being read?
I check your letters, read your notes,
read the messages you’ve sent
out into the vast wired grid of
knowledge – nothing is sacred
any longer, no bit of privacy too
important to breech.
I look over my shoulder, into
your eyes, wonder if it’s
you or me who’s crossed this line,
or maybe Gary next door or
Sid across the street.
How can I be sure?
“for guns are the language of the strong to the weak”
-- Adrienne Rich, “Harper’s Ferry”
Look how blue the sky is
she says
and I think
yes, here, but
it is night in Kabul
black sky broken by
the tracer lines of
incremental rocket fire
American jets running
new missions across
the Afghan night.
*
Steven had called to
give us the news
they’re bombing the bastards
he said
finally
we should go all the way
and I said nothing
remembering burned rubble and
thousands dead or lost
but knowing, too, that
bombs can’t fix a world
that’s seen too much of guns and bombs
and the sour smell of hatred.
*
-- Adrienne Rich, “Harper’s Ferry”
Look how blue the sky is
she says
and I think
yes, here, but
it is night in Kabul
black sky broken by
the tracer lines of
incremental rocket fire
American jets running
new missions across
the Afghan night.
*
Steven had called to
give us the news
they’re bombing the bastards
he said
finally
we should go all the way
and I said nothing
remembering burned rubble and
thousands dead or lost
but knowing, too, that
bombs can’t fix a world
that’s seen too much of guns and bombs
and the sour smell of hatred.
*
Dark eyes and vague pronouncements,
a catalogue of mistrust
in his eyes like the cloudy sense
that time moves but life stalls,
that his whole moment
in the long history of existence is
no longer than the lifespan
of some unnamed insect,
he could never remember which, hated
biology and the sciences, though
they kept returning, coming back
into his life, mind, invading
his conscience with pitchforks and shovels and clubs,
angry villagers making their revolt
against the dictatorship
of his expectations, rousing his
mistrust and alienation, rebels roused
from their apathy with a jolt,
and his stare so empty of
any sense that he has anything
worthwhile to keep living for,
but having no stomach for action,
a desire, yes, a readiness to
end it all, but no ability
to really snuff it out, no mind
for guns or blades or pills or gas,
but still waiting, hating,
waiting for something, anything,
to bring the curtain down.
a catalogue of mistrust
in his eyes like the cloudy sense
that time moves but life stalls,
that his whole moment
in the long history of existence is
no longer than the lifespan
of some unnamed insect,
he could never remember which, hated
biology and the sciences, though
they kept returning, coming back
into his life, mind, invading
his conscience with pitchforks and shovels and clubs,
angry villagers making their revolt
against the dictatorship
of his expectations, rousing his
mistrust and alienation, rebels roused
from their apathy with a jolt,
and his stare so empty of
any sense that he has anything
worthwhile to keep living for,
but having no stomach for action,
a desire, yes, a readiness to
end it all, but no ability
to really snuff it out, no mind
for guns or blades or pills or gas,
but still waiting, hating,
waiting for something, anything,
to bring the curtain down.
Because he tried to kill Dubya's daddy
now we're planning on bombing Saddy.
Why should he sit on all that oil?
We'll suck it out from the desert soil.
Have no fear of collateral damage
when our military goes on a rampage.
Our bombs and missiles are so smart
it's really like a work of art.
So what if war kills people?
Ring the church bells in the steeple.
Third World people just don't matter.
When we strike they all will scatter.
Oh - let's watch it on TV.
Look how that one tried to flee.
But we nailed him fair and square,
precision bombs down from the air.
We're bombing Baghdad from above.
Think of it simply as tough love.
We really don't mean any harm.
We're so sincere we ooze with smarm
and always provide the justification
for our enemies' incineration.
He has weapons of mass destruction.
It's a simple matter of deduction.
Don't let on they came from us.
The American people might make a fuss.
To realize he was our man?
when he gassed the Kurds we were his fan.
Who cares if we provided the gas?
He kicked the Ayatollah's ass.
now we're planning on bombing Saddy.
Why should he sit on all that oil?
We'll suck it out from the desert soil.
Have no fear of collateral damage
when our military goes on a rampage.
Our bombs and missiles are so smart
it's really like a work of art.
So what if war kills people?
Ring the church bells in the steeple.
Third World people just don't matter.
When we strike they all will scatter.
Oh - let's watch it on TV.
Look how that one tried to flee.
But we nailed him fair and square,
precision bombs down from the air.
We're bombing Baghdad from above.
Think of it simply as tough love.
We really don't mean any harm.
We're so sincere we ooze with smarm
and always provide the justification
for our enemies' incineration.
He has weapons of mass destruction.
It's a simple matter of deduction.
Don't let on they came from us.
The American people might make a fuss.
To realize he was our man?
when he gassed the Kurds we were his fan.
Who cares if we provided the gas?
He kicked the Ayatollah's ass.
Time's running out on death row
The masses need appeased
Appeals and pleas have all run out
The family's running out of sweet money
Money greases the wheels of justice
That's how so many guilty rich slip away
But if you're innocent or poor
There's a higher price you'll have to pay
As the people line up outside the prison
As they wait for the lights to go dim
They say
We got have some closure
Gotta get it anyway we can
Got to find some closure
Got to go kill another man
Life in prison is not good enough
Now we need to see them die
It's been this way since time began
Another eye now for an eye
It doesn't matter that they may be innocent
As long as they are strapped to the bed
As long as they have a vein to shoot up
As long as they end up dead
The death supporters are screaming at the protesters
The facts of the case get lost in the fray
They yell
We got to find some closure
Gotta get it anyway we can
We got to find some closure
Got to go and kill another man
Fighting for all the pay-per-view rights
It's what the people want and need
The masses need appeased
Appeals and pleas have all run out
The family's running out of sweet money
Money greases the wheels of justice
That's how so many guilty rich slip away
But if you're innocent or poor
There's a higher price you'll have to pay
As the people line up outside the prison
As they wait for the lights to go dim
They say
We got have some closure
Gotta get it anyway we can
Got to find some closure
Got to go kill another man
Life in prison is not good enough
Now we need to see them die
It's been this way since time began
Another eye now for an eye
It doesn't matter that they may be innocent
As long as they are strapped to the bed
As long as they have a vein to shoot up
As long as they end up dead
The death supporters are screaming at the protesters
The facts of the case get lost in the fray
They yell
We got to find some closure
Gotta get it anyway we can
We got to find some closure
Got to go and kill another man
Fighting for all the pay-per-view rights
It's what the people want and need