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Back Again

May 31, 2011

I write the blog posts for myself and for close friends. I write the posts to bring some order into my swirling thoughts, which are often a free flowing and meandering stream of associations rather than an organized and constructive thinking process. I seldom invite people to this place here. I write bluntly without compromising and I don’t care about public opinions and trends, memes, and the “zeitgeist”. If you accidentally land on this website, there could be many reasons to leave instantly and only a few good reasons to continue reading,

Many reasons to leave instantly and not waste your precious time:

You consider yourself as member of a superior gender or race or nation or class, who is entitled to a privileged position (for instance: white male, EU or US or Israeli citizen, aristocrat, banker/trader, Forbes 400 person).

You like weapons and you like to kill animals, you consider violence and wars as justifiable, inevitable, and an unchangeable part of human nature.

You believe in a free market economy, in free trade and globalization, in competition and the entrepreneurial spirit, in eternal economic growth, in big corporations and Wall Street.

You are convinced, that warnings about chemical pollution and radioactive contamination, about deforestation, desertification, mass extinction of species and climate change are fear mongering. You don’t worry about the ecological impact of your activities and you don’t intend to change your lifestyle in order to minimize this impact. You want to be left alone by the “tree huggers”.

You like to buy fancy gadgets, to drive fast cars, to spend lot of money on fashion items, to dine in elegant restaurants, to travel/cruise/tour around the world and lodge in expensive hotels.

You like TV (Fox, ABC, NBC, CNN) and talk radio (Clear Channel). You trust experts and pundits and spokespersons of government and industry. You believe, that for every problem there is an easy solution (for instance: reducing taxes, cutting welfare and education spending, privatizing communal services, declaring another war).

You believe in gods or goddesses, in spirits and ghosts, fairies, nymphs and satyrs, in witchcraft and supernatural or magical powers, in self help books and agony aunts, in the promises of politicians and other con men, in astrology, conspiracy theories, the rapture and/or the second coming.

A few reasons to continue reading:

A. Inconsistencies and ambiguities in media reports and contradictions of the official narrative to your personal experience are confusing you. You are looking for additional information from alternative sources.

B. You are troubled by social inequality and injustice and you are aware of ecological problems. You want to discuss these issues and possible remedies with likeminded people.

C. You try to connect with other people who, like you, strive for a decent and responsible lifestyle to discuss details and provide/receive encouragement.

Annotations. interpretations, commentaries:

A. Links to alternative sources are in the right column of this blog. Additional links in the blogpost How to choose an echo chamber {2}.

The diversity and the sheer volume of information is overwhelming and exhausting. I for myself try to be unhindered by ideologies, philosophies, religions and I try to apply common sense.

Having said that, the narrow window of our senses and our cognitive limitations make it often difficult to filter, analyze and process the informations. The cognitive limitations are mainly the limits of our working memory, which can contain and correlate not more than 3 to 6 items (depending on the familiarity of the memory patterns, to which the working memory holds the retrieval cues).

There are social, ecological and cultural issues, where not 3 or 6, but hundreds of factors come into play. News reports are consequentially and necessarily a simplification and can often only be understood with sound background knowledge and the application of scientific methods, Darwin’s theory of evolution by natural selection explains a bit, neuroscience and linguistics explain a bit, mathematics (probability theory, chaos theory, information theory) explains a bit.

A few short notes about neuroscience, linguistics and philosophy:

I consider linguistics as the phenomenological branch of neuroscience, because we think and rationalize with words. Philosophy comes into play here, because it can be viewed as the playground of academics and intellectuals, where they artfully combine words to create constructions of thoughts, which may or may not have some resemblance and/or relevance to people’s everyday lives. This playground is useful for linguistic studies and subsequently neurological research. Philosophical texts are a treasure throve for neuroscience, because they reveal, how our brain uses words for logical thinking, reasoning and decision making. I don’t recommend Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Kant, Hegel, because one can easily get mired in irrelevant philosophical discourses, but Rousseau, Hume, Feyerabend, Wittgenstein and the Churchland family offer interesting perspectives (in anyway, calling Wittgenstein a philosopher is like calling Zen-Buddhism a religion).

B. If you have progressed till this point of the text, you are for sure not in the Forbes 400 list and you probably are dismayed by the fact, that these 400 individuals pay taxes at a rate of  just 16.6 percent.

Facts about income inequality:

The income per person and year is 59,590 US$ in Luxembourg, 53,890 US$ in Kuwait, 45,640 US$ in the USA, 390 US$ in Burundi, 300 US$ in the DRC, 290 US$ in Liberia.

About 1.7 billion people live in poverty, Six million children die of hunger every year. Over a billion people are suffering hunger or malnutrition. Most of them are small-scale farmers. 200,000 farmers in India committed suicide in the last 16 years.

One percent of the world’s adults own 40 percent  of the world’s wealth.

The USA has 4.4 percent of the global population and uses a quarter of the world’s fossil fuels. US military spending in 2010 was 698 billion US$, China was second with 119 billion, the UK third with 59.6 billion. The USA is the most powerful and richest country of the world, but the wealth is not evenly spread:

The best paid CEOs earn about 1,100 times more than a worker on the production line.

The top one-tenth of one percent of Americans now make more than the bottom 120 million.

48 million US citizens live below the poverty line.

C. In order not to repeat myself endlessly, I refer to earlier blog posts:

You want to save the world?

Feeling well, feeling good

What I found out and what I want to tell

We often have to make compromises. As a music teacher, I am in the fortunate position to have a job that makes sense to me. Unfortunately I have to drive to the music schools 40 kilometers by car, because there is no public transport in this remote area.

I try to stay healthy and I try to fulfill my basic biological needs, which are: fresh, unpolluted air, clean water, healthy food, sexual fulfillment, peace and quiet. A few details, how I organize my life in order to fulfill my basic needs:

I live in a small village at the edge of a forest and I make a daily walk with my cats in this forest.

I’m a vegetarian and I eat mostly organic food and self grown food.

I’m married.

I stopped buying gadgets (in fact, I stopped buying anything except the bare necessities of life), I cancelled my credit card and my cellphone, I don’t look TV.

=======================

I am grateful for this privileged life that I have. I am grateful that I can make a living with work that I like and I am grateful that I can help my pupils to develop their personality and to get some additional perspectives of the world. There are many people, who are not in my privileged position and who don’t have a job which they like and which is fulfilling. Is there any remedy for people, who are forced to do uninspiring and unnecessary or maybe even detrimental and unethical work — or who have no job at all?

The free market scheme works best in the job market. It works best for the employers, who make the jobs rare by outsourcing the production to low wage countries. This is the main goal of globalization, the rich and powerful can put pressure on the applicants and exploit the workers both at home and abroad at the same time.

The unions could get in the way, but the union bosses were bought and corrupted long time ago. Everybody has his price! The unions were vilified, defamed, and maligned by the corporate media and systematically destroyed. The media brainwashing is still creating a “Red Scare” myth, everybody who fights for her/his rights or her/his fair share of the wealth is denounced as communist, anarchist, socialist or worse even as slacker, dropout, parasite, “welfare queen”.

This is class warfare and it is waged relentlessly and ferociously every day, every hour, every minute, every second. The ones who denounce any dissent as class warfare are in fact the fiercest and most ruthless warriors. And they don’t have to fear, that their warcrimes are revealed. Truth is, what is told by the corporate media 24 hours a day seven hours a week. “The revolution will not be televised”!

There would be so much necessary work to do in education, social services (health care, care for disabled and elderly, counseling troubled minds), nature preservation (reforestation and cleaning of contaminated sites), science and engineering (renewable energies, increasing efficiency). There would be so many possibilities to organize the economies of the world in a sustainable way. The ideas are out (Lester Brown, David Suzuki, Amory B. Lovins), but the big corporations (Big Oil, the biotech lobby, Wall Street, The “Military Industrial Complex”) and the ruling elites are in the way.

I grew up in a time, where the unions still had their own grocery shops and their own newspapers. Why is it not possible to build and own a business collectively? What about co-ops, consumers or workers cooperatives, collective farms? What about a “new economy” and alternative networks? What about “counter currencies”, “time banks”, neighborhood self help groups? Why not squatting and repossessing foreclosed houses and abandoned factories?

The ruling elites have built up a rigid surveillance and security apparatus and Georg Orwell’s 1984 is reality. The tight job market fits perfectly in this scheme, because there are enough young unemployed men who can be indoctrinated, conditioned, enlisted, trained. Give them a badge, a uniform and a weapon and let them loose, they will quell and bloodily suppress any dissent, any challenge to the status quo.

Bahrein, Syria, UAE, Yemen, and other dictatorships around the world use this system unashamed, the “civilized” countries still try to camouflage or sugarcoat it.

Sometimes it can be a useful incentive to let the young fighters rape all available women (a method successfully employed by Mohammed and other leaders throughout human history). Two million women have been raped in the Democratic Republic of Congo.

I don’t suggest anything. I only wonder, what will happen, when the ruling class in the western plutocracies (which as of today still misleading pose as democracies) faces a serious challenge to the established order? Will the gloves be off then? Will already overcrowded prisons filled up to the roof with dissenters or will police squads swarm out to catch and destroy agitators, heretics, nonconformists? Will Lockheed predator drones and attack helicopters engage the “homegrown dissidents” and hellfire missiles blow apart the homes of suspected rebellious citizens?

I hope not! We will make our revolution smooth and easy. We will not give them a reason to lash out. Don’t forget, it is all perception, it is all in the mind! There are many intelligent people who are not indoctrinated, who discovered the truth, who are changing their life and who will collaborate to establish real and fundamental change. A paradigm shift is happening and it is not disruptive, it is smooth and easy.

It is all in our minds.

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Personal notes:

The blog was on hiatus because first my wife injured her ankle and was going with crutches I had to keep the household going and to care for her. After that I had to prepare for a little concert and left the computer alone for a while (no emails, no social networking sites). I’m not a virtuous player, not a genious musician, and I have to practice hard to make my performance bearable for the audience. No time left for the virtual world.

When I reappeared and explained the cause of the hiatus, one of my internet friends asked, if it was a life performance. Of course it was a life performance, life is much too interesting to be dead and so I try to avoid my final death performance as good as I can, though death inevitably will catch up with me sooner or later.

My fight against the dragonfly nymphs in the garden pond is going on and it seems that I make an impact and maybe together with our resident frog we can get rid of them. Only one individual, a grown up four centimeter long nymph, who resides in a inaccessible corner of the pond evaded all my efforts of “capture and kill” until now. I call it “Moby Dick” and I hope that I will not end like captain Ahab. I don’t like to kill animals but the nymphs are whipping out all other animals, especially the tiny little snails who live from algae and therefore keep the algae at bay.

Everything in the garden grows like mad, unfortunately also the algae in the garden pond. Everyday I’m pulling out and sieving algae, I could make a business out of it. This could be a valuable food source one day, just now though I like the strawberries better.

There are scientific theories, that algae were a big factor in the five mass extinction of species. We are just experiencing the sixth mass extinction in the history of the planet (the holocene mass extinction). This time the extinction is caused by humans, but as the oceans become warmer and more acidic it could well be that explosive algae grow (algae bloom) will wipe out aquatic life in wide areas.

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Gil Scott-Heron has no life performances anymore. Many of my musical heroes are dead now, Otis Redding, Donny Hathaway, Marvin Gay, Curtis Mayfield, Pops (Roebuck) Staples, now Gil Scott-Heron. Gil had a troubled life, bereaved and afflicted by drug abuse and AIDS. He was a sensitive, tender, and caring person and this callous and merciless world was too much for him.

He is in all our hearts and we will keep on the fight! “The revolution will not be televised”, but it doesn’t matter, we will work hard to make TV and all corporate media irrelevant. We will work hard to expose the crimes and tell the truth. It is all in our minds. The cacophony of lies and misinformation will not stop, but nobody will listen.

God bless you, I would say, if I would believe in god and an afterlife. Gil, you were a great man and you will live on in our memories!

Song lyrics of Gil Scott-Heron

17th Street
I’ve done a lot of travellin’, seen a lot of pretty faces.
I’ve sung my way out blues songs in extraordinary places.
I come from 17th Street and that’s on the other side of town,
an’ if you see me wit’ my brothers
don’cha dare go no further
you know we gonna get down, down, down.
Some people think I’m crazy, they say gil,
“it mus’ be in yo’ mind.” They tell me
“there jus’ ain’ no sane reazon the way
yawl get down ev’ry time.”
(I trytatellemthat):
“I come from 17th Street an’
that’s where the brothers don’ mess around”
and if you lookin’ for the music
an’ we find out you can use it
you know we gonna get down, down, down.
If you lookin’ for excitement you may need
only look next door
because the brothers from 17th Street
they don’t all live there anymore.
Some done moved to Harlem an’
Some moved way uptown, but if you
thinkin’ bout the Spirit
an’ you want to get near it
c’mon, c’mon an’ get down, down, down.
++++++++++++++
95 South (All Of The Places We’ve Been)
In my lifetime I’ve been in towns
where there was no freedom or future around.
I’ve been in places where you could not eat
or take a drink of water where ever you pleased.
And now that I meet you in the middle of a mountain
Well, I’m reaching out from within.
And all I can think of are chapters and scenes of
all of the places we’ve been.
I’m not such an old man so don’t get me wrong.
I’m the latest survivor of the constantly strong.
I’ve been to Mississippi and down city streets,
I’ve seen days of plenty and nights with nothing to eat.
But I’m not too happy ’bout the middle of a mountain so
soon I’ll be climbing again.
‘Cause all I can think of are chapters and scenes of 
all of the places we’ve been.
I was raised up in a small town in the country down south
so I’ve been close enough to know what oppression’s about.
Placed on this mountain with a rare chance to see
dreams once envisioned by folks much braver than me.
And since their lives got me to the middle of a mountain 
Well, I can’t stop and give up on them.
‘Cause their lights that shine on inspire me to climb on 
from all of the places we’ve been.
From all of the places we’ve been, 
From all of the places we.ve , been alot of places, yeah
From all of the places we’ve been, 
Been down, been down, been down, alot of roads and places
All of the places…
++++++++++++++
1980
Thank you very much, thank you
Thank you, thanks, thanks everybody, yes thank you
Robot dignitaries better welcome you
Aliens part as you pass on through(?)
Nourishment and encouragement for the captain and his crew
Includes a ticker tape parade down the Main Avenue(?)
And you’re captured by the dream machine
you wake up and you wonder what it means
It’s 1980
And there ain’t even no way back to ’75 or 1969
It’s 1980
And ain’t nobody ask me no time lately “how we gonna open the door for 1984?”
God will continue to look out for the children
But the fools will have to look out for themselves
Space is the place but you stuck on the ground
If powers continue but without the sound
A universal dress rehearsal paints the town
But boogie-woogie somewhere in the lost and found
I don’t mean to say that you’re behind the times
But only that the times got away from you
And it’s 1980
And there ain’t even no way back to ’75, much less 1969
It’s 1980
And ain’t nobody ask me no time lately “Brother help me open the door for 1984”
God will continue to look out for the children
But the fools will have to look out, look out, look out
The robot mayor is there to shake your hand
But he ain’t never seen himself no earth man
Heard a funny word he just don’t understand
But he hope that it don’t mean you need a piece of land
Does it seem like such a long long way to come
To end up right back where you coming from?
It’s 1980
And there ain’t even no way back to ’75, or much less 1969
It’s 1980
And ain’t nobody ask me no time lately “how we gonna open the door for 1984?”
God will continue to look out for the children
But the fools are gonna have to learn to fend for themselves
God will continue to watch over the babies
But the fools who never learn, never learn
God will continue to watch over the babies
But the fools are gonna have to watch out, watch out, watch out
Watch out
++++++++++++++
A Legend In His Own Mind
Well he loved plenty women from Canada to Mexico
They would to love to see him coming and hated when he had to go
A macho man before macho ever came to town
The only problem was not enough of him to go around
You know he had had more romances than L.A.’s got stars
He had had more romances than Detroit’s got cars
He’s a, a legend in his own mind and God’s gift to women
On a day God wasn’t giving up a thing
Well you hate to see him coming when you’re grooving at your favorite bar
He’s the death of the party and a self-proclaimed superstar
Got permanent Jones to assure you he’s been everywhere
A show stopping name dropping answer to the ladies’ prayers
To hear him telling he had more romances than doctors got bills
He had had more romances than Beverly got Hills
He’s a, a legend in his own mind and God’s gift to women
On a day God wasn’t giving up a thing
You don’t have to listen when he’s rattling on, yeah
You don’t have to listen, he’s telling everybody else
You don’t have to believe him, I don’t think I’ll ever believe him
Matter of fact he may well not believe himself
Well he loved plenty women from Canada to Mexico
And they loved to see him coming and hated when he had to go
A macho man before macho ever came to town
The only problem was not enough of him to go around
You know he had had more romances than airplanes got gauges
He had had more romances than phone books got pages
He’s a, a legend in his own mind and God’s gift to women
On a day God wasn’t giving up a thing
He’s a, a legend in his own mind and God’s gift to women
On a day God wasn’t giving up, wasn’t giving up, wasn’t giving up
He’s a, a legend in his own mind and God’s gift to women
On a day God wasn’t giving up a thing
++++++++++++++
A Prayer For Everybody/To Be Free
This is a prayer for everybody
In the world
‘Cause I need you and you need me
We need each other
This is a prayer for everybody
In the world
A prayer for you
A prayer for me
A prayer for love and harmony
A prayer for light for all to see
A prayer that someday we’ll all be free
‘Cause…
There’s a lot that’s wrong
We must be strong
And not become bitter
If there’s a chance
That mankind will profit
Why should we scoff at something new
Or old – if it can make us better?
This is a prayer for everybody
In the world
‘Cause without you
And without me
Without love and harmony
Without courage and dignity
What would it mean
To be free?
++++++++++++++
A Sign Of The Ages
It’s a sign of the ages
Markings on my mind
Men at the crossroads
At odds with an angry scab
There can be no salvation
There can be no rest
Until all old customs
Are put to the test
The gods are all angry
You hear from the breeze
As night slams like a hammer
Yeah, and you drop to your knees
The questions can’t be answered
You’re always haunted by the past
The world’s full of children
Who grew up too fast
Yeah, but where can you run
Since there ain’t no world of your own
And you know that no one will ever miss you, yeah yeah yeah
When you’re finally gone
So you cry like a baby, a baby
Or you go out and get high
But there ain’t no peace on Earth, man
Maybe peace when you die, yeah
++++++++++++++
A Very Precious Time
Was there a touch of spring? 
Did she have a pink dress on? 
And when she smiled, her shyest smile 
Could you almost touch the warmth? 
And was it your first love, a very precious time? 
Was there the faintest breeze? 
And did she have a ponytail? 
And could she make you feel ten feet tall, 
Walking down the grassy trail? 
Was it your first love, a very precious time, time? 
Now they got me trying to define, in later life 
What her love means to me 
And it keeps me struggling to remember, my first touch of spring. 
Was there a touch of spring, in the air? 
And did she have a pink dress on? 
And when she smiled, her shyest smile 
Could you almost touch the warmth? 
Was it your first love, 
A very precious, very precious, very precious time, time.
++++++++++++++
Ain’t No Such Thing As Superman
You have understood
The riddles of the ages
Yes and you have understood
The universal nine
You have placed your footprints on
The everlasting sands of time
Yes so tell me why
Can’t you understand that there ain’t no such thing as a superman?
There ain’t no such thing as a superman
You was on the Nile
You went to see great Egypt fall
It fell down to the ground
Yes, and you was out there on the corner
When being cool went blind
Oh, you alone understand that if we gonna win
We’ve got to get together, stay together, be together, stick together
So tell me why, can’t you understand
That there ain’t no such thing as a superman
There ain’t no such thing as a superman
You alone consider mercy after it seems like all you get is pain
It seem to me that you have found the courage that others could not find
You alone have the wisdom to take this world and make it what it need to be, want to be, will be, someday you’ll see
The day, the day you understand
That there ain’t no such thing as a superman
There ain’t no such thing as a superman
++++++++++++++
Alien (Hold On To Your Dream)
Midnight near the border trying to cross the Rio Grande
Runnin’ with coyotes to where the streets are paved with gold
You’re diving underwater when you hear the helicopters
Knowing it’s all been less than worthless if you run into patrols
Hiding in the shadows, so scared you want to scream
But you dare not make a sound if you want to hold on to your dreams
Hold on. Though it may not be a lot, you got to
Hold on. Cause you know it’s all you got
No matter the consequences or the fear that grips your senses
You have got to hold on to your dreams.
City of the Angels with its bright light fascination
Only adds to the confusion that your mind must now endure
The gringos take advantage when they know that you’re illegal
Bot you void la policía like a plague that can’t be cured
Paying la mordida you find out just what pollo means
But you dare not file complaints if you want to hold on to your dreams
Hold on. Though it may not be a lot, you got to
Hold on. Cause you know it’s all you got
No matter the consequences or the fear that grips your senses
You have got to hold on to your dreams.
Down at Western Union sending cash back to your family
Or drinking down cerveza where the lights are very low
Your mind may start to wander when you think about your village
Or the woman that you love so much who’s still in Mexico
At just two bucks an hour there is little to redeem this life
Except that in your mind you’re tryin’ to hold on to your dreams
Hold on. Though it may not be a lot, you got to
Hold on. Cause you know it’s all you got
No matter the consequences or the fear that grips your senses
You have got to hold on to your dreams.
++++++++++++++
Alluswe
Like the weight he’s got to ride on
On the scene he must came in
Like the answers to every question
That’s what he needs – They’d understand
Black man come down
And sit beside us
You can share all that we have
And like the stage he’s got t play on
Like the road he’s pinning down
Life attacts him just like a magnet
Or was that the other way around
Black man come down
Come on down and sit beside us
You are welcomed to all we own
Upside the walls and in the corners
Of the rooms where we live
Love is stronger with every heartbeat
And this love we gladly give
Just come on down
And sit beside us
Can your mind believe your heart
Black man come down
Yea, come on down, down
++++++++++++++
Angel Dust
He was groovin’
and that was when he coulda sworn
the room was movin’
But that was only in his mind
He was sailin’
he never really seemed to notice
vision failin’
’cause that was all part of the high
Sweat was pourin’ —
he couldn’t take it
The room was exploding —
he might not make it.
Angel DustPlease, children would you listen.
Angel DustJust ain’t where it’s at.
Angel DustYou won’t remember what you’re
missin’, but down some dead end streets
there ain’t no turnin’ back.
They were standin’
ev’rybody in a circle;
the whole family
listening to the preacher’s words
Sis was cryin’
She alone held all the secrets
’bout his dyin’
tears fallin’ to earth
Maybe her fault
He was so trusting
God only knew why
they was dustin’!
Angel DustPlease children would you listen.
Angel DustJust ain’t where it’s at.
Angel DustYou won’t remember what you’re
missin’, but down some dead end streets
there ain’t no turnin’ back.
++++++++++++++
Angola, Louisiana
Well I’m feeling fine
I could’ve been doing time.
Well, I’m doing fine, thank you,
but I could’ve been pulling time.
I know a brother man doing time,
and he didn’t commit no crime.
So, thank you, I’m doing fine, 
cuz I could’ve been pulling time.
I’ve been painting a picture of Angola, Louisiana
pictures of deals in back alleys where politicians often hide
But it’s much more important to me than Angola, Louisiana
Got a lot to do with justice but more with Gary Tyler’s life
I got a letter from his mother (that) said,
“Please! Say somethin’ to my son.”
Truth is: Angola, Louisiana, you’re the one.
I ain’t never been nowhere near Angola, Louisiana.
Down in St. Charles Parish where the sun won’t go alone.
But injustice is not confined to Angola, Louisiana.
It can walk in your livin’ room
as long as it surrounds your home.
I send love to brother Tyler, but after all is said and done;
Truth is: Angola, Louisiana, you’re the one.
I can’t tell a man not to defend himself,
not at this late stage.
I can’t tell a man he got no rights, nowhere,
not in this day and age.
This song may not touch a whole lot of people
persuaded by the truth,
but take a look at what’s goin’ on, people,
’cause this all could happen to you.
I’ve been painting a picture of Angola, Louisiana
Down in St. Charles Parish, where the sun won’t go alone
But injustice is not confined to Angola, Louisiana
Well, it can be in your living room
Brother Tyler, hold on, be strong, you’re not alone!
I got a letter from his mother that said,
“Please, say something to my son!”
Truth is: Angola, Louisiana, you’re the one
++++++++++++++
B Movie
Well, the first thing I want to say is…”Mandate my ass!” 
Because it seems as though we’ve been convinced that 26% of the registered voters, not even 26% of the American people, but 26% of the registered voters form a mandate – or a landslide. 21% voted for Skippy and 3, 4% voted for somebody else who might have been running. 
But, oh yeah, I remember. In this year that we have now declared the year from Shogun to Reagan, I remember what I said about Reagan…meant it. Acted like an actor…Hollyweird. Acted like a liberal. Acted like General Franco when he acted like governor of California, then he acted like a republican. Then he acted like somebody was going to vote for him for president. And now we act like 26% of the registered voters is actually a mandate. We’re all actors in this I suppose. 
What has happened is that in the last 20 years, America has changed from a producer to a consumer. And all consumers know that when the producer names the tune…the consumer has got to dance. That’s the way it is. We used to be a producer – very inflexible at that, and now we are consumers and, finding it difficult to understand. Natural resources and minerals will change your world. The Arabs used to be in the 3rd World. They have bought the 2nd World and put a firm down payment on the 1st one. Controlling your resources will control your world. This country has been surprised by the way the world looks now. They don’t know if they want to be Matt Dillon or Bob Dylan. They don’t know if they want to be diplomats or continue the same policy – of nuclear nightmare diplomacy. John Foster Dulles ain’t nothing but the name of an airport now. 
The idea concerns the fact that this country wants nostalgia. They want to go back as far as they can – even if it’s only as far as last week. Not to face now or tomorrow, but to face backwards. And yesterday was the day of our cinema heroes riding to the rescue at the last possible moment. The day of the man in the white hat or the man on the white horse – or the man who always came to save America at the last moment – someone always came to save America at the last moment – especially in “B” movies. And when America found itself having a hard time facing the future, they looked for people like John Wayne. But since John Wayne was no longer available, they settled for Ronald Reagan – and it has placed us in a situation that we can only look at – like a “B” movie. 
Come with us back to those inglorious days when heroes weren’t zeros. Before fair was square. When the cavalry came straight away and all-American men were like Hemingway to the days of the wondrous “B” movie. The producer underwritten by all the millionaires necessary will be Casper “The Defensive” Weinberger – no more animated choice is available. The director will be Attila the Haig, running around frantically declaring himself in control and in charge. The ultimate realization of the inmates taking over at the asylum. The screenplay will be adapted from the book called “Voodoo Economics” by George “Papa Doc” Bush. Music by the “Village People” the very military “Macho Man.” 
“Company!!!” 
“Macho, macho man!” 
“Two-three-four.” 
“He likes to be – well, you get the point.” 
“Huuut! Your left! Your left! Your left…right, left, right, left, right…!” 
A theme song for saber-rallying and selling wars door-to-door. Remember, we’re looking for the closest thing we can find to John Wayne. Cliches abound like kangaroos – courtesy of some spaced out Marlin Perkins, a Reagan contemporary. Cliches like, “itchy trigger finger” and “tall in the saddle” and “riding off or on into the sunset.” Cliches like, “Get off of my planet by sundown!” More so than cliches like, “he died with his boots on.” Marine tough the man is. Bogart tough the man is. Cagney tough the man is. Hollywood tough the man is. Cheap steak tough. And Bonzo’s substantial. The ultimate in synthetic selling: A Madison Avenue masterpiece – a miracle – a cotton-candy politician…Presto! Macho! 
“Macho, macho man!” 
Put your orders in America. And quick as Kodak your leaders duplicate with the accent being on the dupe – cause all of a sudden we have fallen prey to selective amnesia – remembering what we want to remember and forgetting what we choose to forget. All of a sudden, the man who called for a blood bath on our college campuses is supposed to be Dudley “God-damn” Do-Right? 
“You go give them liberals hell Ronnie.” That was the mandate. To the new “Captain Bly” on the new ship of fools. It was doubtlessly based on his chameleon performance of the past – as a liberal democrat – as the head of the Studio Actor’s Guild. When other celluloid saviors were cringing in terror from McCarthy – Ron stood tall. It goes all the way back from Hollywood to hillbilly. From liberal to libelous, from “Bonzo” to Birch idol…born again. Civil rights, women’s rights, gay rights…it’s all wrong. Call in the cavalry to disrupt this perception of freedom gone wild. God damn it…first one wants freedom, then the whole damn world wants freedom. 
Nostalgia, that’s what we want…the good ol’ days…when we gave’em hell. When the buck stopped somewhere and you could still buy something with it. To a time when movies were in black and white – and so was everything else. Even if we go back to the campaign trail, before six-gun Ron shot off his face and developed hoof-in-mouth. Before the free press went down before full-court press. And were reluctant to review the menu because they knew the only thing available was – Crow. 
Lon Chaney, our man of a thousand faces – no match for Ron. Doug Henning does the make-up – special effects from Grecian Formula 16 and Crazy Glue. Transportation furnished by the David Rockefeller of Remote Control Company. Their slogan is, “Why wait for 1984? You can panic now…and avoid the rush.” 
So much for the good news… 
As Wall Street goes, so goes the nation. And here’s a look at the closing numbers – racism’s up, human rights are down, peace is shaky, war items are hot – the House claims all ties. Jobs are down, money is scarce – and common sense is at an all-time low with heavy trading. Movies were looking better than ever and now no one is looking because, we’re starring in a “B” movie. And we would rather have John Wayne…we would rather have John Wayne. 
“You don’t need to be in no hurry. 
You ain’t never really got to worry. 
And you don’t need to check on how you feel. 
Just keep repeating that none of this is real. 
And if you’re sensing, that something’s wrong, 
Well just remember, that it won’t be too long 
Before the director cuts the scene…yea.” 
“This ain’t really your life, 
Ain’t really your life, 
Ain’t really ain’t nothing but a movie.” 
[Refrain repeated about 25 times or more in an apocalyptic crescendo with a military cadence.] 
“This ain’t really your life, 
Ain’t really your life, 
Ain’t really ain’t nothing but a movie.
++++++++++++++
Back Home
There’s been a whole lot said about your city living
They told us that the streets were paved with gold
And some of us believed ’em, left our home and came looking
But that was just another story they told
I got to get back and see my people
Someday and someway
My old Uncle Henry don’t believe in those airplanes
Lord knows you sure been good to me
Gave me piggy bak rides down them dusty highways
When I came just up to his knees
I got to get back and see my people
Someday and someway
I never thought I’d be lost and start searching for warmth and a smile
I never thought I’d be running through the city streets like a newborn child
No, no, no
I never thought I’d be lost and start searching for warmth and a smile
I never thought I’d be running through the city streets like a newborn child
But here I am
And I got some people and I know that they love me
And I know just where to look this time
Collard greens and cornbread on my Sunday dinner
And don’t you know that makes me think it’s working out fine
When I get back to see my people
Someday and someway
Someday and someway
And someday, and someway
++++++++++++++
Beginnings (First Minute Of A New Day)
Mmmmm
We’re sliding through
Completely new
Beginnings
We’re searching out
Our every doubt
We’re winning
We want to be free
Yet we have no idea
Why we are struggling here
Faced with our every fear
Just to survive
We’ve heard the sound
And come around
To listening
We’ve touched the vine
Tme after time
Insisting
We know what life brings
Still we can find a way
From dues we’ve got to pay
We hope we’ll somehow say 
That we’re alive
We’re sliding through
Completely new
Beginnings
We’re searching 
Our every doubt
And winning
We want to be free
Yet we have no idea 
Why we are struggling here
Faced with our every fear
Just to survive
Completely new (x2)
Beginnings
Completely new (x2)
Beginnings
++++++++++++++
Better Days Ahead
And now it’s time
To gather all the things we need to fly
To better days ahead
Just wave goodbye
We’ve better things to do now, you and I 
In better days ahead
Just take my hand
You’re one I need to understand
For better days ahead
With you I can stand
As long as you respect me as your man
There’s better days ahead
Yes, coming on
Just take my hand
You’re the one I need to understand
For better days ahead
With you I can stand
As long as you respect me as your man
There’s better days ahead
Yes, coming on
Coming on
Better days ahead
Coming on
For you and me
++++++++++++++
Bicentennial Blues
Some people think that America invented the blues
And few people doubt that America is the home of the blues
As the bluesicians have gone all over the world carrying the blues message
And the world has snapped its fingers and tapped its feet right along with the blues folks
But, the blues has always been totally American
As American as apple pie
As American as the blues
As American as apple pie
The question is why?
Why should the blues be so at home here
Well, America provided the atmosphere
America provided the atmosphere for the blues and the blues was born
The blues was born on the American wilderness
The blues was born on the beaches where the slave ships docked
Born on the slave man’s auction block
The blues was born and carried on the howling wind
The blues grew up a slave
The blues grew up as property
The blues grew up in Nat Turner visions
The blues grew up in Harriet Tubman courage
The blues grew up in small town deprivation
The blues grew up in big city isolation
The blues grew up in the nightmares of the white man
The blues grew up in the blues singing of Bessie and Billie and Ma
The blues grew up in Satchmo’s horn, on Duke’s piano and Langston’s poetry, on Robeson’s baritone
The point is
That the blues has grown
The blues is grown now, full grown
And you can trace the evolution of the blues
On a parallel line with the evolution of this country
From Plymouth Rock to acid-rock
From 13 states to Watergate
The blues is grown
But not the home
The blues is grown
But the country has not
The blues remembers everything the country forgot
It’s a bicentennial year and the blues is celebrating a birthday
And it’s a bicentennial blues
America has got the blues and it’s a bicentennial edition
The blues view might amuse you
But make no mistake, it’s a bicentennial year
A year of hysterical importance
A year of historical importance
Ripped off like donated moments from the past
200 years ago this evening
200 years ago last evening
And what about now?
The blues is now
The blues has grown up and the country has not
The country has been ripped off
Ripped off like the Indians
Ripped off like jazz
Ripped off like nature
Ripped off like Christmas
Man-handled by media overkill
Goosed by aspiring vice presidents
Violated by commercial corporations
A bicentennial year
The year the symbol transformed into the B-U-Y centennial
Buy a car
Buy a flag
Buy a map
Until the public in mass has been bludgeoned into bicentennial submission
Or bicentennial suspicion
I fall into the latter category
It’s a blues year
And America has got the blues
It’s got the blues because of partial deification
Of partial accomplishments
Over partial periods of time
Halfway justice
Halfway liberty
Halfway equality
It’s a half-ass year
And we would be silly in all our knowledge
In all our self-righteous knowledge
When we sit back and laugh and mock the things that happen in our lives
To accept anything less than the truth
About this bicentennial year
And the truth relates to 200 years of people and ideas getting by
It got by George Washington
The ideas of justice, liberty and equality
Got cold by George Washington
Slave-owner general
Ironic that the father of this country
Should be a slave owner
The father of this country a slave-owner
Having got by him
It made it easy to get by his henchman
The creators of this liberty
Who slept in the beds with the captains of slave ships
Fought alongside black freed men in the union army
And left America a legacy of hypocrisy
It’s a blues year
Got by Gerald Ford
Oatmeal man
Has declared himself at odds
With people on welfare, people who get food stamps
Day care children, the elderly, the poor, women
And people who might vote for Ronald Reagan
Ronald Reagan, it got by him
Hollyweird
Acted like a actor
Acted like a liberruuuuuuuulllzz lolz 
Acted like General Franco when he acted like governor of California
Now he acts like somebody might vote for him for president
It got by Jimmy Carter
Skippy
Got by Jimmy Carter and got by him and his friend the colonel
The creators of southern-fried triple talk
A blues trio
America got the blues
It got by Henry Kissinger
The international godfather of peace
A piece of Vietnam
A piece of Laos
A piece of Angola
A piece of Cuba
A blues quartet
And America got the blues
The point is that it may get by you
For another 4 years
For another 8 years
You stuck 
Playing 2nd fiddle in a blues quartet
Got the blues looking for the first principle
Which was justice
It’s a blues year for justice
It’s a blues year for the San Quentin 6
Looking for justice
It’s a blues year for Gary Tyler
Looking for justice
It’s a blues year for Rev. Ben Chaves
Looking for justice
It’s a blues year for Boston
Looking for justice
It’s a blues year for baby’s on buses
It’s a blues year for mothers and fathers with babies on buses
It’s a blues year for Boston
And it’s a blues year all over this country
America has got the blues
And the blues is in the street looking for the 3 principles
Justice, liberty and equality
We would do well to join the blues looking for justice, liberty and equality
The blues is in the street
America has got the blues
But don’t let it get by us.
++++++++++++++
Billy Green Is Dead
The economy is in an uproar
The whole damn countries is in the red
Tax and fairs are going up
You say, “Billy Green is dead”?
The government can’t decide on bussin’
or at least thats what they said
Yea I heard you, when you told me
You said, “Billy Green was dead”
But let me tell you bout these hot-pants that this big legged sister wore
when i partied with the alphas
what?
Billy took an overdose
well now junkies will be junkies
but did you see Gunsmoke last night?
man they had themselves a shootout and folks was dyin’ left and right
At the end when Matt was cornerd i had damn near give up hope
What you? Why you keep on interrupting me? you say, My son is taking dope?
Call the law and call the doctor!
What you mean i shouldn’t scream?
My only son is taking dope?
Should i sit here like I’m pleased?
Is that familiar anybody?
Check out whats inside your head
Because it never seems to matter
when it’s Billy Green who’s dead
++++++++++++++
Black History/The World
I was wondering about our yesterdays,
and starting digging through the rubble 
and to say, at least somebody went 
through a hell of a lot of trouble 
to make sure that when we looked things up 
we wouldn’t fair too well 
and that we would come up with totally unreliable 
portraits of ourselves. 
But I compiled what few facts I could, 
I mean, such as they are 
to see if we could shed a little bit of light 
and this is what I got so far:
First, white folks discovered Africa 
and they claimed it fair and square. 
Cecil Rhodes couldn’t have been robbing nobody
’cause he said there was nobody there. 
White folks brought all the civilization, 
since there wasn’t none around.
They said ‘how could these folks be civilized 
when you never see nobody writing nothing down?’ 
And just to prove all their suspicions, 
it didn’t take too long. 
They found out there were whole groups of people, in plain sight,
running around with no clothes on. That’s right!
The women, the men, the young and old, 
righteous white folks covered their eyes.
So no time was spent considering the environment. 
Hell no! This here, this just wasn’t civilized! 
And another piece of information they had,
or at least this how we were taught 
is that ‘unlike the very civilized people of Europe’
these tribal units actually fought! 
And yes, there was some rather crude implements 
and yes, there was primitive art
and yes they were masters of hunting and fishing
and courtesy came from the heart. 
And yes there was medicine, love and religion, 
intertribal communication by drum. 
But no paper and pencils and other utensils
and hell, these folks never even heard of a gun. 
And this is why the colonies came
to stabilize the land. 
Because the Dark Continent had copper and gold
and the discoverers had themselves a plan. 
They would discover all the places with promise. 
You didn’t need no titles or deeds.
You could just appoint people to make everything legal, 
to sanction the trickery and greed.
And back in the jungle when the natives got restless
they would call that ‘guerrilla attack’
and they would never describe that the folks finally got wise 
and decided they would fight back.
And still we are victims of word games, 
semantics is always a bitch:
places once referred to as under-developed
are now called ‘mineral rich.’
And the game goes on eternally
unity kept just beyond reach 
Egypt and Libya used to be in Africa, 
they’ve been moved to the Middle East.
There are examples galore I assure you, 
but if interpreting were left up to me 
I’d be sure every time folks knew this version wasn’t mine 
which is why it is called ‘His story’.
++++++++++++++
Brother
We deal in too many externals, brother
always afros, handshakes and dashikis
never can a man build a working structure for black capitalism
always does the man read Mao or Fanon
I think I know you would-be black revolutionaries too well
standing on a box on the corner, talking about blowing the white man away
that’s now where it’s at yet, brother
calling this man an Uncle Tom and telling this woman to get an afro
but you won’t speak to her if she looks like hell, now will you brother
some of us been checking your act out kinda close
and by now its looking kinda shaky
the way you been rushin’ people with your super black bag
jumping down on some black men with both feet cause they’re after their BA
But you’re never around when your BA is in danger…I mean your black ass
I think it was a little too easy for you to forget that you were a negro before Malcolm
You drove your white girl through the village every Friday night
while the grassroots stared in envy and drank wine, do you remember?
You need to get your memory banks organized brother.
Show that man you call an Uncle Tom just where he’s wrong
Show that woman that you’re a sincere black man
All we need to do is see you shut up and be black
Help that woman
Help that man
That’s what brothers are for brother
++++++++++++++
Combinations
I’ve got a feeling
About combinations and how they
Work out so well
It only happens when people don’t dwell on
The time or the feeling
And about combinations it’s true that
North and south attract
Yes, but forever ain’t a fact
To consider like our combination
And you can tear this moment down
And you can make me explain
Every little thing and every situation
But life turns itself around
And all the laughter and the pain 
Simply helps us to maintain our combinations
And I know a sister
Who says combinations are created in the stars
Something to do with my Venus and my Mars being in line
To bring about combinations that will mix in my mind
Until I’m never quite satisfied 
By any but our combination
++++++++++++++
Comment 1
Poem here says, Comment #1 uh Comment #2 is dynamite but Comment #1 is the one we decided to use here this evening because it makes a comment if you listen closely on what is now being advertised in East Harlem as the Rainbow Conspiracy a combination of the Students For A Democratic Society, the Black Niggers, and the Young Lords and this is my particular comment about that conspiracy, Comment #1.
The time is in the street you know, us living as we do upside down. And the new word to have is revolution. People don’t even want to hear the preacher spill or spiel because God’s hole card has been thoroughly peeked. And America is now blood and tears instead of milk and honey. The youngsters who were programmed to continue fucking up woke up one night digging Paul Revere and Nat Turner as the good guys. 
America stripped for bed and we had not all yet closed our eyes. The signs of Truth were tattooed across her often-entered vagina. We learned to our amazement untold tale of scandal. Two long centuries buried in the musty vault, hosed down daily with a gagging perfume. America was a bastard the illegitimate daughter of the mother country whose legs were then spread around the world and a rapist known as freedom, free doom. 
Democracy, liberty, and justice were revolutionary code names that preceded the bubbling bubbling bubbling bubbling bubbling in the mother country’s crotch and behold a baby girl was born, nurtured by slave holders and whitey racists it grew and grew and grew screwing indiscriminately like mother like daughter everything unplagued by her madame mother. 
The present mocks us, good Black people with keen memories set fire to the bastards who ask us in a whisper to melt and integrate. Young, very young, teeny bopping revolt on weekend young dig by proxy what a mental ass kicking they receive through institutionalized everything and vomit up slogans to stay out of Vietnam. They seek to hide their relationship with the world’s prostitute, alienating themselves from everything except dirt and money with long hair, grime, and dope to camo-hide the things that cannot be hidden. They become runaway children to walk the streets downtown with everyday 
Black people sitting on the curb crying because we know that they will go back home with a clear conscience and a college degree. The irony of it all, of course, is when a pale face SDS motherfucker dares look hurt when I tell him to go find his own revolution. He wonders why I tell him that America’s revolution will not be the melting pot but the toilet bowl. He is fighting for legalized smoke, a lower voting age, less lip from his generation gap and fucking in the street. Where is my parallel to that? All I want is a good home and a wife and a children and some food to feed them every night. 
Back goes pale face to basics. Does Little Orphan Annie have a natural? Do Sluggos kings make him a refugee from Mandingo? What does Webster say about soul? I say you silly chipe motherfucker, your great grandfather tied a ball and chain to my balls and bounced me through a cotton field while I lived in an unflushable toilet bowl and now you want me to help you overthrow what? The only Truth that can be delivered to a four year revolutionary with a hole card i.e. skin is this: fuck up what you can in the name of Piggy Wallace, Dickless Nixon, and Spiro Agnew. Leave brother Cleaver and Brother Malcolm alone please. After all is said and done build a new route to China if they’ll have you. 
Who will survive in America?
++++++++++++++
Delta Man (Where I’m Comin’ From)
This is a song about change, you see
We say many things about the changing aspects of our lives
We say that since change is inevitable, we should direct the change
Rather than simply continue to go through the change
We sing a song of revolution as change
To the brothers in the Caribbean and Africa,
Where I’m Coming from
Early in the mornin’ I heard the call of the crow.
He said “C’mon now Brother, I want you to fly with me.
Can’t you see, it’s time to go?”
I been working on this delta underneath the burnin’ sun.
Seem like a Mississippi revolution feel like where I’m coming from.
Brother man run to Nebraska after the Civil War was through.
He worked with his hands, he worked on the land alla his life–
nothin’ else he know to do.
Rootin’-tootin’, wild-west-shootin’-up Brothers!
Though His story don’t teach us none.
Seem like a Wild West Revolution oughta be where I’m comin’ from.
Brother man raised on welfare
He live his life in the heart of the city.
Among the junkies and the desperate people
he learned about life without pity.
But he’s just been thinkin’ and waitin’ and thinkin’ and waitin’,
know his chance was bound to come.
Seem like big city revolution oughta be where I’m comin’ from.
The point I’m trying to make, movin’ from place to place and time to time
(is that) vibrations that bring on new vibrations
is all that’s on peoples minds.
(They tell me) Don’t be ‘fraid of revolution!
It ain’t nothin’ but change and change is surely bound to come.
Put a little revolution in your life
and you’ll understand where I’m comin’ from.
++++++++++++++
Did You Hear What They Said?
Did you hear what they said,
Did you hear what they said,
Did you hear what they said,
They said another brother’s dead,
They said he’s dead…but he can’t be buried,
They said he’s dead…but he can’t be buried,
Come on, come on,come on,come on
this can’t be real.
Did you hear what they said,
Did you hear what they said,
Did you hear what they said,
They said,they shot him in his head,
a shot in the head to save his country,
a shot in the head to save his country,
Come on, come on,come on,come on
this can’t be real.
Did you hear what they said,
Yeah did you hear what they said,
Did you hear what they said,
About his mother and how she cried,
They said she cried,’cause her only son was dead
They said she cried,’cause her only son was dead
Woman,could you imagine if your only son was dead
And somebody told you,he couldn’t be buried,
hey,hey,come on,come on,come on,come on
this can’t be real
++++++++++++++
Don’t Give Up
Ahh lovely day……
I never really thought of myself as a complex man,
Or as someone who was really that hard to understand.
But it would hardly take a genius to realize 
That I’ve always been a lot too arrogant and a little too f$%kin’ wise 
That was a combination that made folks feel duty bound,
To do whatever they could to try and shoot me down.
To head off some of the things I might possibly say,
And see if they couldn’t take some of my pride away.
To bring me disappointment and teach me to fear it 
Obviously these are folks that just didn’t have no spirit
Spirits say 
[chorus]
Don’t give up (spirits say don’t give up)
Yes it’s time to stop your fallin’
You’ve been down long enough 
Can’t you hear the spirits callin’
Yes it’s the spirits 
Can’t you hear iiiiiit
Callin’ your name x 2
Yeah talkin’ bout spiriiiiiiiiiiits heh 
There are people whose lives are so far of the track 
That what they like best about life is stabbing’ brothers in the back
And I was obviously too blind and probably too weak 
To see who was responsible for my losing streak 
The best way to explain it is to say simply because
I was looking around outside and the truth is I was
the one. So I got locked into all of the analysis 
And found myself locked into a kind of paralysis
And something was calling and I almost didn’t hear it 
But I spent a lot of time being blessed by the spirits
They keep saying 
[Chorus]
I didn’t matter if it was a child or and adult 
There was absolutely no-one that I could not insult.
So that I could isolate myself somewhere off to the side 
And continue to juggle all the possible whys
The warmth I wanted to generate so well 
Had turned into a frozen hell 
And the discouraging injustices I felt 
Had pinned me somewhere inside a drug infested cell
Where those who told didn’t know and those who knew didn’t tell
And “I could continue to feel sorry for my self” [echo of “”]
And then I heard 
[Chorus]
Ain’t no way overnight to turn your life around 
And this ain’t the conversation of someone that never falls back down
But no matter how long you’ve been on trial 
With the days and weeks of self denial 
And no matter how many times you’ve tried to make it 
And found out that right then you just couldn’t take it 
If you are looking for a looser who found strength and success
Remember the spirit of Brother Malcolm X
And know that you can leave all your mistakes behind 
The day that you “really make up your mind” [echo of “”]
Come on brother… come on up 
Stand on up and say…
[Chorus]
++++++++++++++
Enough
it was not enough that we were bought and brought to this home as the slave, locked in the bowels of a floating shithouse, watching those we love eaten away by plauge and insanity, flesh falling like strips of bark from a termite-infested tree, bones rotting turning first to brittle ivory then to resin. 
that was not enough.
it was not enough that we were chained to leg irons, black on black with a piss stained wall forced to heed nature’s call through and inside of tattered rags that strained our privates, and evidently years of slavery did not appease your need to be superior to something like a crazed lion hung up on being the king of his corner of the cage, backs bent under the wieght of being everything and having nothing, minds too like bomerrangs curving back into themselves kicked and carved by the face-straining smiles that saved my life. 
that was not enough.
somehow i can not believe that it would be enough for me to melt with you and integrate without the thoughts of rape and murder. i cannot conceive of peace on earth until i have given you a piece of lead or pipe to end your worthless motherfucking exitence. imagine your nightmares of my sneaking into a vieled of satin bedroom and attacking your daughter, wife and mother at once ripping open their bowels sexually like a wishbone. imagine that magnified a million times when you realize that the blinders have been stripped from my eyes and I realize that slavery was no smiling happy-fizzy party. your ancestors raped my foremothers and i will not forget. i will not forget that Yale or Harvard or Princeton or In-Hell because you are on my mind. i see you everytime my woman walks down the street with her ass on her shoulders. i see you everytime i look in the mirror and think about the times that i would pat myself on the back for not being too black afterall. i think of you morning, noon and night and i wonder, “just exactly what in hell is enough?” everytime i see a rope or gun i remember, and to top it all of you ain’t through yet. over fifty you have killed in mississippi since 1963. that doesn’t even begin to begin all of those you have maimed, hit and run over, blinded, poisoned, starved, or castrated. i hope you do not think that a vote for John Kennedy took you off my shit-list because in the street there will only be black and white. there will be no Democrats, Republicans, Liberals, Conservatives, Moderates, or any other of the rest of that shit you have used to make me forget to hate.
there ain’t no enough. there ain’t no surrender. there is only plot and plan, move and groove, kill. there is no promise land. there is only the promise. the promise is not vowel until we have been nerve gassed, shot down and murdered, or done some of the same ourselves. look over your shoulder motherfucker, i am coming.
++++++++++++++
Everyday
Mmmmm
I can’t seem to find 
the words to say (to say)
I don’t have strength to play the games
you need to play (to play)
Every day I seem to be running from the truth
I ask myself questions but it just ain’t no use
‘Cause it seems no matter, no matter, what I try to do
I’m still loving and living, lying and losing
Every day (Yeah, every day)
I’ve got a job
And to say the least
It don’t mean a thing (it don’t mean a thing)
It don’t begin to compare
With the hurt and pair that I’ve seen (I’ve seen)
Sometimes I know I can’t tell wrong from right
I don’t seem to know day from night
It’s no wonder that the whole world uptight
They’re just loving and living, lying and losing
Every day (Yeah, every day)
Stop on the way home 
From work to have a drink
Just to give myself a little time to think
‘Cause it seems that more and more I start to realize
That the truth that I wanted
The love that I needed
Has somehow disappeared before my eyes
I can’t seem to find the words I need to say (to say)
I can’t find strength enough to play the games you need, you need to play (to play)
‘Cause every day you got me, got me running from the truth
And no matter, no matter what I try to do
It seems that somehow it just ain’t no use
I’m still loving and living, lying and losing
Can’t seem to remember
God it’s so confusing
I’m still loving and living, lying and losing
Every day (Yeah, every day)
++++++++++++++
Evolution (And Flashback)
In 1600 I was a darkie
Until 1865, a slave
In 1900 I was a nigger
Or at least, that was my name
In 1960 I was a negro
And then brother Malcom came along
And then some nigger shot Malcom down
But the bitter truth lives on
Martin is dead
With Martin as our leader
We prayed, and marched
And marched, and prayed
Things were changing
Things were getting better
But things were not together
With Malcom as our leader,
We learned
And thought
And thought we had learned
Things were better
Things were changing
But things were not together
And now it is your turn,
We are tired of praying, and marching, and thinking, and learning
Brothers wanna start cutting, and shooting, and stealing, and burning
You are three hundred years ahead in equality
But next summer may be too late
To look back
In 1600 I was a darkie
And until 1865 a slave
In 1900 I was a nigger
Or at least that was my name
In 1960 I was a negro
And then Malcom came along
Yes, but some nigger shot Malcom down
Though the bitter truth lives on
Well now I am a black man
And though I still go second class
Where as once I wanted the white man’s love
Now he can kiss my ass
++++++++++++++
Fast Lane
Watching players dealing in the fast lane 
Set your camera shutters for the fast frames 
Like Charlie Chaplin movies that go so quick 
Fending off a stampede is no easy trick 
Pulses pounding, people rounding dead ends 
At this pace you’ll never hold your old friends 
Try to build relations that just won’t stick 
Examining the options you take your pick 
Moving too fast? 
That’s a question only you can answer 
Losing your grip! 
Are your palms a little bit slippery, huh? 
If you crash 
Crash landings always got the captain to blame 
But you’re the captain driving in the fast lane 
Losers there to see you in the fast lane 
Misery loves company so they claim 
Excitement is the currency we deal in 
Nursing your casualties so healing 
If you want to major in distraction 
Too bad if you’re not pleased with my reaction 
But I’ve seen so much out here that it is real plain 
That nothing last for long out in the fast lane 
I don’t want to come off like a preacher 
But I swear it’s not too late to return 
Somehow square and hip got put in reverse 
Putting things in fifth gear made it much worse 
None of this may influence your direction 
But I hope you can still take suggestions 
There’s a woman out there calling your name 
Hope that you don’t blow it in the fast lane 
Moving too fast! 
We’re all praying that somehow you don’t crash
++++++++++++++
Free Will
Find a shadow cast by rainbows
There you’ll meet the sage.
Feeding rabbits bits of lettuce or cleaning out the cage.
He can give you more direction than you’ve ever known.
Show you your bronzed baby shoes
Now, my how you have grown!
Ain’t it nice to fly? You’re waving as soft clouds go by,
But Peace won’t be still of its own free will.
Say you want to go exploring; you got to find some truth.
Can’t stand one more day of Christians shouting down at you. 
You say you don’t dig politics that never was your bag.
People who could run for office wave their private flag.
Ain’t it nice to fly? You’re waving as soft clouds go by,
But peace won’t be still of its own free will
Ain’t it nice to fly? You’re waving as soft clouds go by,
But peace won’t be still of its own free will.
++++++++++++++
Get Out Of The Ghetto Blues
(What we want to discuss here 
are routes out of the ghetto. 
This is called 
the “Get Out of the Ghetto” blues.)
I know you think you’re cool–
LORD, if they bus your kids to school…
I know you think you’re cool,
Just cuz they bus your kids to school.
But you ain’t got a thing to lose;
You just got the get out of the ghetto blues.
I know you think you’re cool
If you’re gettin’ two WELFARE checks;
You done TOLD me you think you’re cool
Because you’re gettin’ two WELFARE checks.
Yea! But you got ten years to lose (if they catch you)
Just tryin’ to fight that get out of the ghetto blues.
(what it is, what it is.)
If he don’t catch you in the wash,
LORD knows he’ll catch you in the rinse.
I know you think you’re cool
Just ‘cuz you shooting that stuff in your arm.
I seen you nodding
‘Cuz you shoot that STUFF into your arm.
And it don’t matter which pine box you choose:
You got the get out of the ghetto blues.
Yeah.
++++++++++++++
Give Her A Call
Give Her a Call on the Spirits album, 1994.
My life is one of movement
I been running as fast as I can
I’ve inherited trial and error directly from my old man
But I’m committed to the consequences
Whether I stand or fall
And when I get back to my life
I think I’m gonna give her a call
She’s been waiting patiently
For me to get myself together
And it touches something deep inside
When she said she’d wait forever
Because forever’s right up on me now
That is, if it ever comes at all
And when I’m back to my life
I think I’ll give her a call.
++++++++++++++
Gun
Brother Man nowadays living in the ghetto 
Where the danger’s sure enough real 
Well when he’s out late at night 
and if he’s got his head on right 
Well, I lay you 9 to 5 he’s walking with steal. 
Brother Man says he’s ‘fraid of gangsters 
Messing with people just for fun 
He don’t want to be next 
He got a family to protect 
So just last week he bought himself a gun. 
[Chorus:]
Everybody got a pistol, everybody got a 45 
And the philosophy seem to be 
At least as near as I can see 
When other folks give up theirs, I’ll give up mine. 
This is a violent civilization 
If civilization’s where I am 
Every channel that I stop on 
Got a different kind of cop on 
Killing them by the million for Uncle Sam 
Saturday night just ain’t that special 
Yeah, I got the constitution on the run 
‘Cause even though we’ve got the right 
To defend our home, to defend our life 
Got to understand to get it in hand about the guns 
[chorus & solo break]
Saturday night just ain’t that special 
Freedom to be afraid is all you want 
Yes if you don’t want to be next 
You’ve got a family to protect 
9 out of 10, you’ve got a friend, you’ve got a gun. 
[chorus]
Everybody got a pistol, this mosty be the NRA 
Yeah ’cause when it’s time to shine up 
You know damn well they’re gonna line up 
Everybody… 
And the philosophy seem to be 
At least as near as I can see 
When other folks give up theirs, I’ll give up mine
++++++++++++++
H2O Gate Blues
Heh, don’t wanna be involved in this one, huh?
This here is gonna be a blues number.
But first I wanna do a little bit of background on the Blues
And say what it is.
Like, there are 6 cardinal colors
And colors have always come to signify more than that particular shade.
Like: “red-neck” or “got the blues.”
That’s where you apply somethin to a color, to express what you’re trying to say.
So, there are 6 cardinal colors: Yellow, Red, Orange, Green, Blue, and Purple.
And there are 3,000 shades.
And if you take these 3,000 and divide them by 6, you come up with 500.
Meaning that there are at least 500 shades of The Blues.
For example, there is…
The “I ain’t got me no money, blues”.
There is the “I ain’t got me no woman, blues”.
There is the “I ain’t got me no money AND I ain’t got me no woman”.
which is the double blues.
And for years it was thought that Black people was the only ones who could get the blues.
So the Blues hadn’t come into no international type of fame. (…had a corner on the market.)
But lately we had..
The Frank Rizzo with the “Lie Detector Blues”.
We had the United States government talkin bout the “Energy Crisis Blues”.
And we gonna dedicate this next poem here to Spearhead X.
The Ex-Second in Command in terms of this Country. (He GOT the blues.)*laughter*
And the poem is called the “H2O G-A-T-E Blues”.
And if H2O is still water
And G-A-T-E is still gate
What we gettin ready to deal on is the
“Watergate Blues”… (Yeah~ YEAH~ haha~)*scattered applause*
(Rated X!)
Lemme see if I can dial this number….
Click! Whirr … Click!
“I’m sorry, the government you have elected is inoperative …
Click! Inoperative!”
Just how blind will America be?
The world is on the edge of its seat
Defeat on the horizon. very surprisin’
That we all could see the plot and still could not…
— let me do that part again.
Just how blind will America be? (Ain’t no tellin’)
The world is on the edge of its seat
Defeat on the horizon. very surprisin’
That we all could see the plot
And claimed that we could not.(Alright~)
Just how blind, America?
Just as Vietnam exploded in the rice
snap, crackle, and pop (Uh Oh!)
Could not stop people determined to be free.
Just how blind will America be?(Yes Sir!)
The shock of a Vietnam defeat
Sent Republican donkeys scurrying down on Wall Street
And when the roll was called it was:
Pepsi-Cola and Phillips 66
Boeing, Dow & Lockheed
Ask them what we’re fighting for and they never mention the economics of war.
Ecological Warfare!
Above all else destroy the land!
If we can’t break the Asian will
We’ll bomb the dykes and starve the man!
America!
The international Jekyll and Hyde
The land of a thousand disguises
Sneaks up on you but rarely surprises (Yeah!)
Plundering the Asian countryside
in the name of Fu Man Thieu.
Afraid of shoeless, undernourished Cambodians
While we strike big wheat bargains with Russia
Our nuclear enemy
Just how blind, America?
But tell me, who was around where Hale Boggs died?
And what was the cause of LBJ’s untimely demise?
And what really happened to J. Edgar Hoover?
The king is proud of Patrick Gray
While America’s faith is drowning
beneath that cesspool-Watergate. (Yeeeah!)
How long will the citizens sit and wait?
It’s looking like Europe in ’38
Did they move to stop Hitler before it was too late? (no…)
How long. America before the consequences of
Keeping the school systems segregated
Allowing the press to be intimidated
Watching the price of everything soar
And hearing complaints ’cause the rich want more? (Alright!)
It seems that MacBeth, and not his lady, went mad
We’ve let him eliminate the whole middle class
The dollar’s the only thing we can’t inflate
While the poor go on without a new minimum wage
What really happened to J Edgar Hoover?
The kind is proud of Patrick Gray
And there are those who say America’s faith is drowning
Beneath that cesspool-Watergate.
How much more evidence do the citizens need
That the election was sabotaged by trickery and greed?
And, if this is so, and who we got didn’t win
Let’s do the whole goddamn election over again! (YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!)
The obvious key to the whole charade
Would be to run down all of the games they played:
Remember Dita Beard and ITT, the slaughter of Attica,
The C.I.A. in Chile knowing nothing about Allende at this time
In the past. As I recollect, Augusta Georgia
The nomination of Supreme Court Jesters to head off the tapes
William Calley’s Executive Interference
in the image of John Wayne.
Kent State, Jackson State, Southern Louisiana.
Hundreds of unauthorized bombing raids.
The chaining and gagging of Bobby Seale –
Somebody tell these Maryland Governors to be for real!
We recall all of these events just to prove (Yeah!)
The Waterbuggers in the Watergate wasn’t no news!
The thing that seems to justify all of our fears
Is that all of this went down in the last five years.
But tell me, what really happened to J. Edgar Hoover?
The kind is proud of Patrick Gray
While America’s faith is drowning
Beneath that cesspool-Watergate.
We leave America to ponder the image
Of justice from its new wave of leaders
Frank Rizzo, the high school graduate
Mayor of Philadelphia, whose ignorance
Is surpassed only by those who voted for him. (Hahahaha)
Richard Daley, imperial Napoleonic Mayor of Chicago.
who took over from Al Capone and
Continues to implement the same tactics.
George Wallace. Lester Maddawg
Strom Thurmond, Ronald Reagan-
An almost endless list that won’t be missed when at last
America is purged (Yeah! Alright~)
And the silent White House with the James Brothers
once in command.
But see the sauerkraut Mafia men
deserting the sinking White House ship and
Their main mindless, meglomaniac Ahab.
McCord has blown. Mitchell has blown no tap on my telephone,
McCord has blown. Mitchell has blown no tap on my telephone
Halderman, Ehrlichman, Mitchell and Dean
It follows a pattern if you dig what I mean.
Halderman, Ehrlichman, Mitchell and Dean
It follows a pattern if you dig what I mean.
And what are we left with now?
Bumper stickers that say Free the Watergate 500.
Spy movies of the same name with a cast of thousands.
And that ominous phrase: that if Nixon knew, Agnew knew!(check it out!)
But Agnew knew enough to stay out of jail
What really happened to J. Edgar Hoover?
The kind is proud of Patrick Gray
And there are those who swear they’ve seen King Richard (who? who?)
King Richard
(who?)
King Richard
(who?)
King Richard
(who?)
King Richard
(who?)
King Richard
King Richard
King Richard
King Richard- (Yeah!)
Beneath that cesspool-Watergate.
*Applause*
Four more years,
Four more years,
Four more years,
Four more years of THAT?
++++++++++++++
Hello Sunday! Hello Road!
Agent told me where I’m going
Tom and Keg Leg got the map
The Steelers on my color tv
Henry riding in my lap
Say Hello Sunday, Hello Road
Lord what would my grandma say
To see me out here loving music
So much that I live this way
But then again she’s right here with me
Watching every place I go
Oh did you tell me it was my move
I guess it is
Hello Sunday, Hello Road
Hello Sunday, Hello Road
Manager we had just couldn’t manage
So Midnight managed right alone
And it’s got me out here with my brothers
And that’s the thing that keeps me strong
Say Hello Sunday, Hello Road
Seems like we’re coming up on a town
Children on their way to Sunday school
And I’m tippin’ my hat to Miss Chocolate Brown
And it was on a Sunday that I met my old man
I was twenty-six years old
Naw but it was much too late to speculate
Say Hello Sunday, Hello Road
Hello Sunday, Hello Road
And I’ve been digging life through my window
And that’s the way it’s always been
Snow in Nashville, rain in Philly
No matter, get back on the bus again
Say Hello Sunday, Hello Road
Let me try the optimistic side
‘Cause me and Stick done seen a lot of babies
Dancing to “The Bottle” while we ride
It’s sure nuff good being with the brothers
Carrying good news wherever we go
Hey let me get myself together man
Say Hello Sunday, Hello Road 
++++++++++++++
Home Is Where The Hatred Is
A junkie walking through the twilight
I’m on my way home
I left three days ago, but noone seems to know i’m gone
Home is where the hatred is
Home is filled with pain and it,
might not be such a bad idea if i never, never went home again
stand as far away from me as you can and ask me why
hang on to your rosary beads
close your eyes to watch me die
you keep saying, kick it, quit it, kick it, quit it
God, but did you ever try
to turn your sick soul inside out
so that the world, so that the world
can watch you die
home is where i live inside my white powder dreams
home was once an empty vacuum that’s filled now with my silent screams
home is where the needle marks
try to heal my broken heart
and it might not be such a bad idea if i never, if i never went home again
home again
home again
home again 
kick it, quit it
kick it, quit it
kick it, quit it
kick it, can’t go home again
++++++++++++++
I Think I’ll Call It Morning
I’m gonna take myself a piece of sunshine
And paint it all over my sky
Be no rain…
I’m gonna take the song from every bird
And make em sing it just for me
Bird’s got something to teach us all
About being free, yeah
Be no rain…
And I think I’ll call it morning
From now on
Why should I survive on sadness?
And tell myself I got to be alone
Why should I subscribe to this world’s madness?
Knowing that I’ve got to live on 
Yeah I think I’ll call it morning
From now on
I’m gonna take myself a piece of sunshine
And paint it all over my sky
Be no rain…
Be no rain…
I’m gonna take the song from every bird
And make them sing it just for me
Cause why should I hang my head
Why should I let tears fall from my eyes?
When I’ve seen everything there is to see
And I know there is no sense in crying
I know there aint no sense in crying
Yeah I think I’ll call it morning
From now on
I’ll call it morning from now on, yeah
Cause there ain’t gonna be no rain
Be no rain
Be no rain
From now on…
++++++++++++++
I’ll Take Care Of You
I know you’ve been hurt by someone else
I can tell by the way you carry yourself
But if you let me, here’s what I’ll do
I’ll take care of you
I’ve loved and I’ve lost the same as you
So you see I know just what you’ve been through
And if you let me, here’s what I’ll do
I’ll take care of you
You won’t ever have to worry
You won’t ever have to cry
For I’ll be there beside you
To dry your weeping eyes
So darling tell me that you’ll be true
There’s no doubt in my mind, no, what I want to do
And just as sure as one and one is two
I know I’ll take care of you
I’ll take care of you
++++++++++++++
I’m New Here
I did not become someone different 
That I did not want to be 
But I’m new here 
Will you show me around 
No matter how far wrong you’ve gone 
You can always turn around 
Met a woman in a bar 
Told her I was hard to get to know 
And near impossible to forget 
She said i had an ego on me 
The size of Texas 
Well I’m new here and I forget 
Does that mean big or small 
No matter how far wrong you’ve gone You can always tourn around 
And I’m shedding plates like a snake 
And it may be crazy but I’m 
the closest thing I have 
To a voice of reason 
Turn around turn around turn around 
And you may come full circle 
and be new here again 
++++++++++++++
Is That Jazz?
Basie was never really commonplace 
He was always measures ahead. 
Ellington was more than number one 
For the music and things that he said. 
Bird was the word back when tenors were heard 
From Kansas right up to the Prez 
And Billie was really the Queen of a scene 
That keeps echoing on in my head. 
What it has will surely last but is that Jazz? 
Miles had a style that amazes and raises 
The spirits from deep in your soul. 
‘Trane struck a vein of laughter and pain 
Adventures the mind could explore. 
Stevie and Bob talk of freedom and ‘Jah’ 
In their own individual ways. 
Playing and singing as long as its bringing 
A message is all that it says. 
What is has will surely last but is that Jazz? 
We overanaylze we let others define 
A thousand precious feelings from our past. 
When we express love and tenderness 
Is that Jazz? Is that Jazz? Is that Jazz? Is that Jazz? 
Dizzy’s been busy while Grover gets us over 
With notes that go straight to the heart. 
Brother Ron gets it on with a bassline so strong 
That the sounds seem to glow in the dark. 
I take pride in what’s mine – is that really a crime – 
When you know I ain’t got nothing else? 
Only millions of sounds picks me up when I’m down; 
Let me salvage a piece of myself. 
What it has will surely last but is that Jazz?
++++++++++++++
It’s Your World
the ground beneath my feet 
i know was made for me
there is no any one place where I belong.
my spirit’s meant to be free 
and soon now everyone will see 
life was made for us to be what we wanna be!
IT’S YOUR WORLD
it’s yours and yours and yours
and what you see
was not meant for me.
IT’S YOUR WORLD
but you don’t have to be lonely 
’cause in your world
you are truly free!
the thoughts that fill my mind
are a very special kind
because they’re home to me and me alone.
and then i realize 
that we all have a home inside
that was meant for us to be what we wanna be
it’s your world
it’s yours and yours and yours
and what you see
was not meant for me
it’s your world
but you don’t have to be lonely 
’cause in your world — you are truly free!
music of life fills my soul 
music of love makes me feel whole
as human history unfolds before my eyes.
my spirit’s meant to be free
and soon now everyone’s will be.
it’s your right to be whatever you wanna be!
IT’S YOUR WORLD
it’s yours and yours and yours
and what you see
was not necessarily meant for me
IT’S YOUR WORLD
but you don’t have to be lonely
’cause in your world
you are truly free!
IT’S YOUR WORLD
it’s yours and yours and yours
and what you see
it was not meant for me
IT’S YOUR WORLD
but you don’t have to be lonely 
’cause in your world
you are truly free!
(refrain)
you are truly free
to be what you wanna be
you are truly free
to be what you wanna be
you are truly free
to be what you wanna be
you are truly free
to be what you wanna be
++++++++++++++
Johannesburg
What’s the word?
Tell me brother, have you heard
From Johannesburg?
What’s the word?
Sister/woman have you heard
From Johannesburg?
They tell me that our brothers over there
Are defyin’ the Man.
We don’t know for sure because the news we get
Is unreliable, man.
Well I hate it when the blood starts flowin’,
But I’m glad to see resistance growin’.
Somebody tell me what’s the word?
Tell me brother, have you heard
From Johannesburg?
They tell me that our brothers over there
Refuse to work in the mines.
They may not get the news but they need to know
We’re on their side.
Now sometimes distance brings misunderstanding,
But deep in my heart I’m demanding:
Somebody tell me what’s the word?
Sister/woman have you heard
‘Bout Johannesburg?
I know that their strugglin’ over there
Ain’t gonna free me,
But we all need to be strugglin’
If we’re gonna be free.
Don’t you wanna be free?
++++++++++++++
Jose Campos Torres
I had said I wasn’t going to write no more poems like this
I had confessed to myself all along, tracer of life, poetry trends
That awareness, consciousness, poems that screamed of pain and the origins of pain and death had blanketed my tablets 
And therefore, my friends, brothers, sisters, in-laws, outlaws, and besides — they already knew
But brother Torres, common ancient bloodline brother Torres is dead
I had said I wasn’t going to write no more poems like this
I had said I wasn’t going to write no more words down about people kicking us when we’re down
About racist dogs that attack us and drive us down, drag us down and beat us down
But the dogs are in the street
The dogs are alive and the terror in our hearts has scarcely diminished
It has scarcely brought us the comfort we suspected
The recognition of our terror and the screaming release of that recognition
Has not removed the certainty of that knowledge — how could it
The dogs rabid foaming with the energy of their brutish ignorance
Stride the city streets like robot gunslingers
And spread death as night lamps flash crude reflections from gun butts and police shields
I had said I wasn’t going to write no more poems like this
But the battlefield has oozed away from the stilted debates of semantics
Beyond the questionable flexibility of primal screaming
The reality of our city, jungle streets and their Gestapos
Has become an attack on home, life, family and philosophy, total
It is beyond the question of the advantages of didactic niggerisms
The motherfucking dogs are in the street
In Houston maybe someone said Mexicans were the new niggers
In LA maybe someone said Chicanos were the new niggers
In Frisco maybe someone said Orientals were the new niggers
Maybe in Philadelphia and North Carolina they decided they didn’t need no new niggers
I had said I wasn’t going to write no more poems like this
But dogs are in the street
It’s a turn around world where things are all too quickly turned around
It was turned around so that right looked wrong
It was turned around so that up looked down
It was turned around so that those who marched in the streets with bibles and signs of peace became enemies of the state and risk to national security
So that those who questioned the operations of those in authority on the principles of justice, liberty, and equality became the vanguard of a communist attack
It became so you couldn’t call a spade a motherfucking spade
Brother Torres is dead, the Wilmington Ten are still incarcerated
Ed Davis, Ronald Regan, James Hunt, and Frank Rizzo are still alive
And the dogs are in the motherfucking street
I had said I wasn’t going to write no more poems like this
I made a mistake
++++++++++++++
King Alfred Plan
Brothers and sisters there is a place for you in America
Places are being prepared and readied night and day, night and day
The white boy’s plan is being readied night and day, night and day
Listen close to what rap say bout traps like Allenwood P.A.
Already in D.C. to preventatively detain you and me
How long you think it’s going to be before even our dreams ain’t free
You think I exaggerate check out Allenwood P.A.
And night and day, night and day – the white boy’s plotting night and day, night and day
The Jews and Hitler come to mind
The thought of slavery far behind
But white paranoia is here to stay
The white boy’s scheming night and day, night and day
What you think bout the King Alfred Plan
You ain’t heard; where you been man
If I may paraphrase the government notice reads:
“Should there at anytime become a clear and present danger initiated by any radical element threatening the operation of the government of th United States of America, members of this radical element shall be tranported to dentention centers until such time as their threat has been eliminated – code KING ALFRED”
Bullshit I bet you say there ain’t no Allenwood P.A.
And people ain’t waiting night and day, night and day, night and day
There will be without the Motown sound and thunderbird 
Wollowing in the echoes of Mlcolm’s words
There must be black unity, there must be black unity 
For in the end unity will be thrust upon us and we upon it and each other
Lock in cages penned, hemmed in shoulder to shoulder – arms out-stretched 
For just a crust of bread,watermelon, mirages and oasis that does not exist
Cuntured up by the bubbling stinch of unwash bodies and unsanitary quarters
Concrete and bobbed-wire, babies screaming 
Stumbling around in a mental circle because you never cared enough to be black
In the end unity will be thrust upon us – lanketed, stipled 
A salty taste in your mouth from blood oozing from cracks and wooly heads 
Red pools becoming thicker than syrup slow down your face
Spurs matte from the life force sprung loose from wells
Welled deep by the enforcers of mock justice of the red, white and blue
In the end unity will be thrust upon us 
Let us unite because of love and not hate
Let us unite on our own and not because of bobbed-wired death
You dare not ignore the things I say
Whitey’s waiting night and day, night and day, night and day, night and day
++++++++++++++
Lady Day And John Coltrane
Ever feel kinda down and out, you dont know just what to do
Livin all of your days in darkness let the sun shine through
Ever feel that somehow, somewhere you lost your way
And if you dont get a help quick you wont make it through the day
Or could you call on Lady Day, could you call on John Coltrane
Now cause there, theyll wash your troubles, your troubles, your troubles away
Plastic people with plastic minds are on their way to plastic homes
No beginning there aint no ending just on and on and on and on and on, its
All because theyre so afraid to say that theyre alone
Until I hear old Rodney ridin on his saxophone
Or could you call on Lady Day, could you call on John Coltrane
Now cause there, theyll wash your troubles, your troubles, 
your troubles away
Alright
Ever feel kinda down and out, you dont know just what to do
Livin all of your days in darkness let the sun shine through
Ever feel that somehow, somewhere you lost your way
And if you dont get a help quick you wont make it through the day
Or could you call on Lady Day, could you call on John Coltrane
Now cause there, theyll wash your troubles, your troubles, your troubles, your troubles
Your troubles, your troubles, your troubles
Your troubles, your troubles, 
your troubles away
Theyll wash your troubles away
++++++++++++++
Liberation Song (Red, Black And Green)
I’ve seen the red sun in the autumn
And I’ve seen the leaves turn to golden brown
I’ve seen the red sun in the autumn
And I’ve seen the leaves returning to golden brown
I’ve seen the red blood of my people
Heard them calling for freedom everywhere
If you’ve seen the red blood of your people
All you’ve got to do it
Reach out your hand and we’ll take you there
Red stands for liberation
Red
I see the blackness of winter
I see death lurking in the trees
Yeah, I see the blackness of winter
And I see death lurking in the trees
I see the blackness of my people
You know they’re calling for freedom everywhere
I’ve seen the blackness of my people
And all you got to do,
Brothers and sisters, reach out your hands,
We’re gonna take you there
Black stands for liberation, yeah, aah
I’ve seen the green buds in the springtime
And somebody told me that means new life
I’ve seen the green buds in the springtime
Comin’ up through the concrete
Somebody told me they symbolize new life
I’ve seen the green fields of my homeland
And I’ve heard people calling for freedom everywhere
It seems to me like if you’ve seen the green fields of your homeland
Even when you dream it, you can reach out your mind
And someone will take you there, cause
Green stands for liberation
Green
There are three colors on our flag now, brother
One red, one black, and there’s one green
There are three colors on our flag now, sister
Can you tell your babies what they mean?
I’m talking ‘bout red and the black and green
Want you to keep on thinking ‘bout red and the black and green
I’m gonna keep on singin’ ‘bout red and the black and green
And sooner than you think the whole world’s gonna know just what we mean
When we say they stand for liberation
They stand for liberation
Talkin’ bout red
Yes, and black
We’re talkin’ bout green
It’s more than a dream if you dig what we mean
It stands for liberation
It stands for a brand new nation
It stands for liberation
It stands for a brand new nation
Yeah
++++++++++++++
Lovely Day
Smile
It’s on a clear spring mornin’
There’s not a cloud in the sky
And it’s got me out here walkin’ and wavin’ to the ladies
As they stroll by
And I ain’t forgot for a moment all the things I need to do
But when I see that old sun shinin’, it make me feel like I can make it, too
Yes, and all I really wanna say
Is that the problems come and go, 
But the sunshine seems to stay
And just look around
I think we’ve found
A lovely day
The flowers woke up bloomin’
And put on a color show just for me
The shadows dark and gloomy
I told them all to keep the hell away from me
Because I don’t feel like believin’ everything I do gon’ turn out wrong
When vibrations I’m receiving say
“Hold on, brother, just you be strong”
Yes and all I really wanna say
Is that the problems come and go,
But the sunshine seems to stay
Hey
Just look around
I think we’ve found 
A lovely day
Sometimes it rains
And I feel kinda strange
Because it seems like my problems begin
Without the sunshine on which I depend
And all that make me feel like I need to hear the sun say
Hey, just look around
I think we’ve found 
A lovely day
I think we’ve found a lovely day
I think we’ve found a lovely, lovely
Don’t it feel like a lovely day
++++++++++++++
Madison Avenue
Pretty pictures in your favorite magazines
span the distance between you and Mr Clean(?)
You can take part in the All-American dream
just fill your house up with a million
products you don’t need.
You don’t ever have to use them.
Buying is all that’s asked of you.
But if it’s so Goddamn incredible
you can’t believe it’s true
it’s Madison Avenue
Make it all commercial
there ain’t nothin’ folks won’t buy
New fuel to fire up the monsters of Free Enterprise
Gizmos and gadgets, batteries to make them run
Just give your check up at the first of every month
And don’t wake up to the uselessness
’till your whole life is overdue.
‘Cause if it’s so Goddamn incredible
you can’t believe it’s true
it’s Madison Avenue
They can sell sand to a man livin’ in the desert.
They can sell tuna to the chicken of the sea…
You are surrounded and confounded and
dumbfounded by the happenings yes it’s true
it’s Madison Avenue
++++++++++++++
Me And The Devil
Early this mornin’, when you knocked upon my door
Early this mornin’, when you knocked upon my door
And I said, “Hello Satan, I believe it’s time to go”
Me and the devil, walkin’ side by side
Me and the devil, walkin’ side by side
And I’m goin’ to see my woman, until I get satisfied
She say you don’t see why, that you will dog me ’round
(Now, babe, you know you ain’t doin’ me right)
Say, don’t see why, you will dog me ’round
It must be that old evil spirit, so deep down in the ground
You may bury my body, down by the highway side
(I don’t care where you bury my body when I’m gone)
You may bury my body, down by the highway side
So my old evil spirit, can catch a Greyhound bus and ride
++++++++++++++
Message To The Messengers
Hey, yeah, we the same brothas from a long time ago
We was talkin’ about television and doin’ it on the radio
What we did was to help our generation realize
They had to get out there and get busy cause it wasn’t gonna be televised
We got respect for you rappers and the way they be free-weighin’
But if you’re gon’ be teachin’ folks things, make sure you know what you’re sayin’
Older folks in our neighborhood got plenty of know-how
Remember if it wasn’t for them, you wouldn’t be out here now
And I ain’t comin’ at you with no disrespect
All I’m sayin’ is that you damn well got to be correct
Because if you’re gonna be speakin’ for a whole generation
And you know enough to try and handle their education
Make sure you know the real deal about past situations
It ain’t just repeatin’ what you heard on the local TV stations
…Sometimes they tell lies and put ’em in a truthful disguise
But the truth is that’s why we said it wouldn’t be televised
They don’t know what to say to our young folks, but they know that you do
And if they really knew the truth…why would they tell you?
The first sign is peace, tell all them gun totin’ young brothas 
That the man is glad to see us out there killin’ one another
We raised too much hell when they was shootin’ us down
So they started poisoning our minds tryin’ to jerk us all around
And they tell us they got to come in and control our situation
They want half of us on dope and the other half in incarceration
If the ones they want dead ain’t killed by what they instigated
They put some dope on a brotha’s body and claim it was drug related
Tell them drug related means there don’t need to be no investigation
Or at least that’s the way they’re gon’ play it on the local TV stations
All your 9-millimeter brothas…give them somthin’ to think about
Tell them you heard that this is the new word, they got to work that stuff out
But somehow they feel in the wrong way with a gun in their hands
They feel real independent…but they just pullin’ contracts for the man
Five and five will tell you it’s hopeless out there on the avenue
But if they really knew the truth…why would they tell you?
And if they look at you like you’re insane
And they start callin’ you scarecrow and say you ain’t got no brain
Or start tellin’ folks that you suddenly gone lame
Or that white folks had finally co-opted your game
Or worse yet implying that you don’t really know…
That’s the same thing they said about us…a long time ago
Young rappers, one more suggestion before I get out of your way 
But I appreciate the respect you give me and what you got to say 
I’m sayin’ protect your community and spread that respect around
Tell brothas and sistas they gotta calm that bullshit down
Cause we’re terrorizin’ our old folks and brought fear into our homes
And they ain’t got to hang out with the senior citizens
Just tell them, “Dammit…leave the old folks alone”
And we know who rippin’ off the neighborhood, tell them, “That BS has got to stop!”
Tell them you’re sorry they can’t handle it out there 
But they got to take the crime off the block
And if they look at you like you’re insane
And they start callin’ you scarecrow and say you ain’t got no brain
Or start tellin’ folks that you suddenly gone lame
Or that white folks had finally co-opted your game
Or worse yet saying that you really don’t know…
That’s the same thing they said about me a long time ago
And if they tell folks that you finally lost your nerve
That’s the same thing they said about us, when we said, “Johannesburg”
But I think the young folks need to know, that things don’t go both ways
You can’t talk respect of every other song or just every other day
What I’m speakin’ on now is the raps about the women folks
On one song she’s your African Queen on the next one she’s a joke
And you ain’t said no words that I haven’t heard, but that ain’t no compliment
It only insults eight people out of ten and questions your intelligence
Four letter words or four syllable words won’t make you important
It’ll only magnify how shallow you are and let everybody know it
And if they look at you like they think you insane
Or they call you scarecrow thinkin’ you ain’t got no brain
Or start tellin’ folks that you suddenly gone lame
Or that white folks have finally co-opted your game 
Or you really don’t know…They said that about me a long time ago
If they finally start to tell people that you lost your nerve
That’s what they said about Johannesburg
You ain’t insane…you have got a brain
You haven’t gone lame; you have got your game
Remember…keep the nerve
Keep the nerve 
Keep the nerve
Keep the nerve
…I’m talkin’ about peace
++++++++++++++
Morning Thoughts
My life’s been one of movement, i’ve been travelling
Just as fast as i can
But i’ve been no more successful at getting away
Than was my old man
But i’m committed to the consequences
Whether i stand or fall
And when i get back to my life,
I think i’m gonna give her a call
She’s been waiting patiently
For me to put my trip together
And it touches something deep inside
When she says she’d wait forever
But forever’s right upon me now
That is, if it ever comes at all
And when i get back to my life
I think i’m gonna give her a call.
++++++++++++++
Must Be Something
Must be somethin’
Must be somethin’ we can do
Must be somethin’
Must be somethin’ we can do
We didn’t come all this way just to give up
We didn’t struggle all this time to say we’ve had enough
Had enough
Must be somethin’
Must be somethin’ we can do
Must be somethin’
Must be somethin’ we can do
We didn’t come all this way in the dead of night
To give up now that we can see the light
See the light
Just like music
Just like music that we make
Fills the spirit 
And helps to see a clearer day
I’ll tell you somethin’
I’ll tell you somethin’ you can do
Keep on movin’
Keep on movin’ for what’s true
I’ll tell you somethin’
I’ll tell you somethin’ you can do
Keep on movin’
Keep on movin’ for what’s true
++++++++++++++
My Cloud
And when the morning comes
If there’s been no rest for you
We’ve been friends long enough
You should know what to do
If that’s how you started your day
Why keep running away
When you could
Come and join me on my cloud
And in the afternoon
If things are still the same
You’ve always held a key
To effect the change
What in the morning I said
When you’re running away from me
And you could come and join me on my cloud
How you must? in the evening
( From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/g/gil-scott,,heron-lyrics/my-cloud-lyrics.html )
How everything got so turned around
Please don’t let it get you down
All you got to do is just
Come and join me on my cloud
And I’ve saved a special place
Right next to me
And it’s always been your space
I’m sure that you will see
You could always count on me
To love you and let you be free
So why not come and join me
You could come and join me
You can come and join me
On my cloud
++++++++++++++
No Knock
You explained it to me I must admit
But just for the record you were talkin’ shit
Y’all rap about no knock bein’ legislated
For the people you’ve always hated
In this hell hole you, we, call home
No knock, the man will say
To keep that man from beating his wife
No knock, the man will say
To protect people from themselves
No knockin’, head-rockin’, inter-shockin’
Shootin’, cussin’, killin’, cryin’, lyin’
And bein’ white
No knock
No knocked on my brother Fred Hampton
Bullet holes all over the place
No knocked on my brother Michael Harris
And jammed a shotgun against his skull
For my protection?
Who’s gonna protect me from you?
The likes of you?
The nerve of you?
Your tomato face deadpan
Your dead hands ending another freedom fan
No knockin’, head rockin’, inter-shockin’
Shootin’, cussin’, killin’, cryin’, lyin’
And bein’ white
But if you’re wise, no knocker
You’ll tell your no-knockin’ lackeys
Ha! 
No knock on my brother’s head
No knock on my sister’s head
No knock on my brother’s head
No knock on my sister’s head
And double lock your door
Because soon someone may be no-knockin’
Ha, ha!
For you
(No knock: To be slipped into John Mitchell’s suggestion box.)
++++++++++++++
Offering
We have something to offer you
We have music to offer you
Spirits may come into view
We have spirits to offer you
Seasons my change
And feelings may change
But music remains
Seasons may change
And feelings may change
But music remains and it fills you
We have something to offer you
We have new love to offer you
And music to offer you
And spirits to offer you
And new love and music to offer you
We have
++++++++++++++
Omen
A giant eye zapped across the screen,
With tentacle type feeler type thin roots,
Reaching for someone maybe me,
With large black block letters,
Chiseled into the white around the pupils screaming,
R e v o l u t i o n,
Revolution,
And as the eye giant and green,
Sort of oozed with no obvious locomotion,
Closer and closer until it was like this on my screen,
It split and blood flowed down each side of the street,
Washing away things that we didn’t need to see,
Just like beer cans peanut shells and copies of the daily news,
And then laying there, bleeding like a stuck pig,
Was a stuck pig,
Get the point?
++++++++++++++
On Coming From A Broken Home
I want to make this a special tribute 
to a family that contradicts the concepts 
heard the rules but wouldnâ??t accept 
and women-folk raised me 
and i was full grown before i knew 
I came from a broken home 
sent to live with my grandma down south 
when my uncles was leaving 
and my grandfather had just left for heaven 
they said and as every-ologist would certainly note 
i had no strong male figure right? 
But lily Scott was absolutely not your mail order room service type cast black grandmother 
i was moved in with her; temporarily, just until things were patched, 
til this was patched and til that was patched 
until i became at 3, 4, 5,6 ,7, 8, 9 and 10 
the patch that held lily Scott who held me and like them 4 
i become one more and I loved her from the absolute marrow of my bones 
and we was holdin on, 
i come from a broken home 
She had more then the 5 senses 
she knew more then books could teach 
and raised everyone she touched just a little bit higher 
and all around her there was a natural sense 
as though she sensed what the stars say what the birds say 
what the wind and the clouds say 
a sensual soul and self that African sense 
and she raised me like she raised 4 of her own 
and i was hurt and scared and shocked when lily Scott left suddenly one night 
and they sent a limousine from heaven to take her to god, if there is one. 
So i knew she had gone; and 
i came from a broken home
++++++++++++++
Or Down You Fall
I sail alone in my paper ship
The seat is made of fire
I ride my horse of nuts and bolts
We’re made to never tire
The world is just a simple circle
I’ve got to keep on turning
Yea, I’ve got to keep on turning
‘Til I fall down
To the top of the mountain
Inside a hollow stone
I pretend I’m an iron man, yes
Instead of flesh and bone
The world is just a simple circle
And it keeps on turning
Yea, and it keeps on turning
You’ve got to
Go away, I can’t stand to see your face
Cuz you seem the weakest link
And now you know I’m only human
Instead of all the things I’d like to be
The world is just a simple circle
You’ve got to keep on turning
Yea, you’ve got to keep on turning
Or down you fall
++++++++++++++
Paint It Black
Picture a man of nearly thirty
Who seems twice as old with clothes torn and dirty
Give him a job shining shoes
Or cleaning out toilets with bus station crews
Give him six children with nothing to eat
Expose them to life on a ghetto street
Tie an old rag around his wife’s head
And have her pregnant and lying in bed
Stuff them all in a Harlem house
And then tell them how bad things are down South.
++++++++++++++
Peace Go With You, Brother (As-Salaam-Alaikum)
Peace go with you, brother
Though I ain’t so proud anymore
Peace go with you brother
Recognition don’t come cheap anymore
You’re my lawyer, you’re my doctor
Yea, but somehow you’ve forgot about me
And now, now when I see you
All I can say is: Peace go with you brother
Peace to you, brother
Don’t seem to matter much now what I say
Peace go with you brother
You the kind of man that think he’s got to have his own way
You’re my father, you’re my uncle and my cousin and my son
But sometimes, sometimes I wish you were not
But I manage to smile and I say: Peace go with you brother
Peace go with you brother
Don’t make no sense for us to be arguing now
Time is right up on us now brother
Don’t make no sense for us to be arguing now
All of your children and all of my children are gonna hsve pay for our mistakes someday
Yes – and until then may peace guide your way
Peace go with you brother; wherever you go
Peace go with you brother
++++++++++++++
Pieces Of A Man
Jagged jigsaw pieces
Tossed about the room
I saw my grandma sweeping
With her old straw broom
But she didn’t what she was doing
She could hardly understand
That she was really sweeping up..
Pieces of a man
I saw my daddy greet the mailman
And I heard the mailman say
“Now don’t you take this letter to heart now Jimmy
Cause they’ve laid off nine others today”
But he didn’t know what he was saying
He could hardly understand
That he was only talking to
Pieces of a man
I saw the thunder and heard the lightning!
And felt the burden of his shame
And for some unknown reason
He never turned my way
Pieces of that letter
Were tossed about that room
And now I hear the sound of sirens
Come knifing through the gloom
But they don’t know what they are doing
They could hardly understand
That they’re only arresting
Pieces of a man
I saw him go to pieces
I saw him go to pieces
He was always such a good man
He was always such a strong man
Yeah, I saw him go to pieces
I saw him go to pieces
++++++++++++++
Plastic Pattern People
Glad to get high and see the slow motion world.
Just to reach, and touch, the half notes floating.
Worlds spinning orbit quicker than 9/8ths Dave Brubeck.
We come now, frantically searching for Thomas Moore, rainbow villages.
Up on suddenly, Charlie Mingus and our man Abdul Malik,
to add bass, to a bottomless pit of insecurity.
You may be plastic because you never meditate,
about the bottom of glasses, The third side of your universe.
Add on Alice Coltrane and her cosmic strains.
Still no vocal on blue black horizons.
Your plasticity is tested by a formless assault.
The sun can answer questions in tune, to all your sacrifices.
But why would our new jazz age give us no more mind expanding puzzles?
Enter John.
Blow from under, always, and never, so that the morning, the sun,
may scream of brain bending saxophones.
The third world arrives, with Yusef Lateef, and Pharaoh Saunders.
With oboes straining to touch the core of your unknown soul.
Ravi Shankar comes, with strings attached, prepared to stabilize your seventh sense,
Your black rhythm.
Up and down a silly ladder run the notes, without the words.
Words are important for the mind, but the notes are for the soul.
Miles Davis, So what?
CannonballFiddler, Mercy.
Dexter Gordon, One Flight Up.
Donald Byrd, playing Cristo, but what about words?
Would you like to survive on sadness? Call on Ella and Jose Happiness.
Drift with Smokey, Bill Medley, Bobby Taylor, and Otis Redding
Soul music where frustrations are washed by drums, Nina and Miriam.
Congo, Mongo, Beat me, senseless, bongo, Tonto.
Flash through dream worlds of STP and LSD. 
Speed kills and sometimes musics call, is frustrated.
And the black man is confused.
Our speed is our life pace, much too fast, not good.
I beg you to escape, and live, and hear all of the real.
Until a call comes for you to cry elsewhere.
We must all cry, but tell me.
Must our tears be white?
++++++++++++++
Push Comes To Shove
Push comes to shove to find exactly what you’re made of
Ain’t nobody seen you
Can nobody scold you
Can nobody blame you,
And make you feel bad
Nobody should tie you
Tell you I told you
Nobody should ride you,
About the commitments you had.
Cuz they done learned you
And they done burned you
Showed you idealistic is all you were
Everybody gotta realize
That we all had to compromise
Had to put on suit and ties
When push came to shove 
(it’s seems like)
Push comes to shove once in your lifetime (yes and)
Push comes to shove to find out just what’s on your mind
Push comes to shove to find exactly what you’re made of
Nobody can know
Nobody should tease you
Not try to disown you (bizown?)
And make you feel strange
Nobody got to explain
Ain’t nothing really to explain
Everything that rearrange— (?)
and the weather can change (?)
But they done taught you
Cuz they done caught you
Showed you unrealistic is all you was
So everybody once believed
Was only showing how naive
Gotta give up to be free
When push came to shove.
Push comes to shove once in your lifetime (yes and)
Push comes to shove to find out just what’s on your mind
Push comes to shove to find exactly what you’re made of
Well, everybody knew somehow we was somehow running late
And with the captains overboard, who was handling a ship of fate?
And all we knew was what we really did not know
And that’s when push was sure ‘nough coming to shove
Push comes to shove to find exactly what you’re made of…
Cuz they done learned you
And they done burned you
Showed you idealistic is all you was
Everybody gotta realize
That we all had to compromise
Had to put on suit and ties
When push came to shove
Push comes to shove once in your lifetime (yes and)
Push comes to shove to find out just what’s on your mind
Push comes to shove to find exactly what you’re made of
++++++++++++++
Racetrack In France
I heard I needed to travel.
“Go out and spread the word” people say.
So I’m kickin’ up dust and gravel
on a racetrack near Marseilles.
If it all sounds like a mystery
things that you just don’t understand
let me give you a little bit of history
about me and the Midnight Band:
On a racetrack in France
everybody started clapping their hands.
It seemed like a long way fron Union Station.
On a racetrack in France
everybody started to dance.
I was a long way from home but those were good vibrations.
Me and the bothers no parlez-vous.
French was way down on my list.
(But) the Africans said “Merci beaucoup!”
’cause the rhythm’s what they missed.
The people got the message
from the music that we play.
It really shouldn’t a been no surprise
that we all got down that day:
On a racetrack in France
everybody got to clapping their hands.
It seemed like a long way from Union Station.
On a racetrack in France
Everybody started to dance.
I was a long way from home but those were good vibrations.
++++++++++++++
Rivers Of My Fathers
Looking for a way
Out of this confusion
I’m looking for a sign
Carry me home
Let me lay down by a stream
And let me be miles from everything
Rivers of my Fathers
Can you carry me home
Carry me home
Rub your soul against the concrete
And the concrete is my smile
Got to change my way of living
Got to change my style
Let me lay down by a stream
Miles from everything
Rivers of my fathers
Could you carry me home
Carry me home
Looking for a way
Got to find a way out of this confusion
Looking for a sign
Point my way home
Let me lay down by a stream
Miles from everything
Rivers of my fathers, rivers of my fathers
Carry me home, please carry me home
Carry me home, carry me home
Carry me home, carry me home
++++++++++++++
Running
Because I always feel like running 
Not away, because there is no such place 
Because, if there was I would have found it by now 
Because it’s easier to run, 
Easier than staying and finding out you’re the only one…who didn’t run 
Because running will be the way your life and mine will be described 
As in “the long run” 
Or as in having given someone a “run for his money” 
Or as in “running out of time” 
Because running makes me look like everyone else, though I hope there will ever be cause for that 
Because I will be running in the other direction, not running for cover 
Because if I knew where cover was, I would stay there and never have to run for it 
Not running for my life, because I have to be running for something of more value to be running and not in fear 
Because the thing I fear cannot be escaped, eluded, avoided, hidden from, protected from, gotten away from, 
Not without showing the fear as I see it now 
Because closer, clearer, no sir, nearer 
Because of you and because of that nice 
That you quietly, quickly be causing 
And because you’re going to see me run soon and because you’re going to know why I’m running then 
You’ll know then 
Because I’m not going to tell you now
++++++++++++++
Save The Children
If you’re driving through the country on a lazy afternoon
Or you’re watching your children playin’ after school
They seem to be so unaware of I know I know
The things that they soon have to take care of
We got to do something yeah to save the children
Soon it will be their test to try and save the world
Right now they seem to play such a small part of
The things that they soon be right at the heart of
My little Tommy he said he wants to be a fireman
And little Mary she said she got to teach at school
If we know or we say we know about the problems
Why can’t we do something to try and solve them
We got to do something yeah to save the children
Soon it will be their test to try and save the world
We got to do something yeah to save the children
To save the children
To save the children
++++++++++++++
Sex Education: Ghetto Style
I was doin’ it when I was a colored boy of eight or nine or ten
I had never heard of Sigmund Freud but hell I was doin’ it then
I was doin’ it in my teenaged years when I was running the ghetto streets
Now I had never seen me no ink blot test but it still felt good to me
I was doin’ it when I arrived in college searching for my degree
But Lord knows a degree wasn’t all I got and that’s the way it’s supposed to be
I hope that when I have kids of my own they really don’t get shook
When I tell them that there are things they’ve got to learn that can’t be found in books.
++++++++++++++
Shah Mot (The Shah Is Dead/Checkmate)
My name is what’s your name
I am the voice of sane
Remembering things that I told me yesterday
My name is what’s your name
I am inside your frame
We saw the devils,
Had to make them go away
My name is what’s your name
You may reject my claim
But I expect that you won’t vary from it long
My name is what’s your name
Ours is a single aim
And we can double recognize in need of form (?)
Take it to the street
Tell everybody you meet
You do whatever, you do whatever you feel the wardrum beat
Put it in the air,
Spit it everywhere
You do whatever you do whatever, you know you got to be there
Shah mot!
You only take it as a symbol
Look closely, who does it resemble?
My name is what’s your name
If you recall the change
Then you can dig that we’ve been put into a trance
My name is what to do
I am inside of you
I’ve been here ever since the day you learned to stand
My name is what’s your name
Born on the wings of strain
Ours is a justice that has long been overdue
My name is what to do
But we already knew
And now the clouds are wearing how come to view (?)
Shah mot!
Take it to the street
Tell everybody you meet
You do whatever, you do whatever you feel the wardrum beat
Shah mot!
Put it in the air,
Spit it everywhere
You do whatever you do whatever, you know you got to be there
Shah mot!
You only take it as a symbol
[Shah mot!]
Look closely, who does it resemble?
My name is what’s your name
I am the voice of sane
Remembering things that I told me yesterday
My name is what’s your name
I am inside your frame
We saw the devils,
Had to make them go away
Shah mot!
Take it to the street
Tell everybody you meet
You do whatever, you do whatever you feel the wardrum beat
Shah mot!
Put it in the air,
Spit it everywhere
You do whatever you do whatever, you know you got to be there
Shah mot!
You only take it as a symbol
Look closely, who does it resemble?
[repeat]
++++++++++++++
Shut ‘Um Down
Did you hear that rumble? Did you hear that sound?
Well it wasn’t no eartquake, but it shook the ground.
It made me think about power, like it or not:
I got to work for earth for what it’s worth,
‘Cause it’s the only earth we’ve got.
Shut ‘um Down!
If that’s the only way to keep them from melting down!
Shut ‘um Down!
If that’s the only way to keep them from melting down!
I’ve heard a lot about safety and human error.
A few dials and gauges is just a wing and a prayer.
If you need perfection, and that’s what it takes,
Then you don’t need people, can’t use people,
You know people make mistakes…
Shut ‘um Down!
If that’s the only way to keep them from melting down!
Shut ‘um Down!
If that’s the only way to keep them from melting down!
++++++++++++++
Small Talk At 125th And Lenox
This is just like listening
to a conversation being held 
by the many people who congregate 
on one of the most popular blocks
in the largest area of black America
Did you ever eat cornbread and black eye peas
Or watermelon and mustard greens?
Get high as you can on Saturday night
Go to church on Sunday to set things right
Listen
I seen Miss Blake after Willy yesterday
She’d’ve killed anybody who got in her way
Hey look I got a TV for a pound on the head
And Jimmy Jean got the best Panamanian Red
No I ain’t got on no underclothes
But we all got to get through this gypsy rose
I think Clay got his very good points
You say a trade bag with thirteen joints?
Who cares if LBJ is in town?
Up with Stokely and H. Rap Brown
I don’t know if the riots is wrong
But whitey’s been kickin’ my ass for too long
I was s’posed to baby but they held my pay.
Did you hear what the number was yesterday?
Junkies is all right when they ain’t broke
They leaves you alone when they high on dope
Damn, but I wish I could get up and move
Shut up. Hell you know that ain’t true.
++++++++++++++
Song For Bobby Smith
(spoken)
I know a young warrior named Bobby Smith
He’s gonna be 4 years old on his next birthday
He happened to be with Brian and I when we wrote this song
It’s about new life and new spirit, new feelings
We asked Bobby, “Bobby, what should we call this song?”
And he said, “Oh that’s pretty, that’s my song.”
That was very appropriate, this song for new life should be about Bobby
This is ‘A Song for Bobby Smith’
(sung)
Ain’t you been there?
Ain’t you goin?
Can’t you taste your ideas growin?
We are soldiers
Soldiers of a new day
Can’t you see it?
Can’t you feel it in your heart?
Ain’t you been there and ain’t you goin
To a place where friendship’s flowin?
We are brothers
Brothers and sisters in spirit
Can’t you see it?
Yeah, can’t you feel it in your heart?
Ain’t you been there?
Ain’t you goin?
Can’t you take this love I’m showin?
Got to be you and me
You and me together
Can’t you see it?
Can’t you feel it in your heart?
++++++++++++++
Speed Kills
Speed on by, don’t seem to have the time
What about this life?
What about this life?
Can I come by?
Issues in the paper (somehow I’m not concerned)
Seems that I’ve been here before
Here before, but I never learn
Children
Slowly turn
Time stay gone, we never saw it go
Now what do we have?
Now what do we have, that we may show?
Friends you swore you’d never lose (melted from your style)
Down the tunnels of your youth, of your youth,
Now you never smile
Children 
Learn to smile
++++++++++++++
Spirits Past
It’s getting to be the time of year
When people once spoke of love and good cheer
Peace on Earth and good will to all men
And we all believed that there’d come a day
When peace would be much more than “on it’s way”
Cause peace has been on it’s way since I don’t know when
And the folks who decide what will be
They haven’t confided in me
And i don’t think that everybody can wait ’til then
It makes me sad that my kids won’t see
Christmas the way it used to be
I was so excited though we didn’t have a dime
But that seems like such a long time ago
And I am still a child I know
But it seems like we’ve lost much more than the time
Cause the folks who decide what will be
They haven’t confided in me
And I don’t think that everybody can wait ’til then
No, I don’t think that everybody can wait ’til then
No, I don’t think that everybody can wait ’til then
++++++++++++++
Storm Music
What´s that music playin´ on the radio?
What´s that music playin´ everywhere I go?
I don´t think I´ve ever heard
a sweeter feelin´ in the whole wide world
than that music playin´ in my heart.
From time to time the darkness comes along
to terrorize the weak and challenge the strong.
The storm is coming, it grows on the waves
from Johannesburg to Montego Bay.
What´s that music playin´ on the radio?
What´s that music playin´ everywhere I go?
I don´t think I´ve ever seen
another music that could make me feel
like that music playin´ in my heart.
Justice is coming on the wings of the storm.
We resist in the present for those yet unborn.
Freedom is spreading like the wings of a bird
and the message it carries has got to be heard.
What´s that music playin´ on the radio?
What´s that music playin´ everywhere I go?
I don´t think I´ve ever heard
a sweeter feelin´ in the whole wide world
than that music playin´ in my heart.
++++++++++++++
The Bottle
See that black boy over there runnin’ scared
His old man in a bottle
He done quit his 9 to 5
He drink full time and now he’s livin’ in a bottle
See that black boy over there runnin’ scared
His old man got a problem
And it’s a bad one
He done pawned off damn near everything,
His old woman’s weddin’ ring for a bottle
And don’t you think it’s a crime when
Time after time after time
People in the bottle
There’s people livin’ in the bottle
Listen to me
See that sister, sho’ was fine
Before she started drinkin’ wine in a bottle
She told me her old man committed a crime
He’s doin’ time and now she’s hangin’ in a bottle
I seen her out there on the avenue
All by herself, she sho’ need help from the bottle
I seen a preacherman try to help her out
She cussed him out and hit him in the head with a bottle
They turn to me, and they ask me, Gil, 
Don’t you think it’s a crime the way
Time after time after time
People in the bottle
There’s people sho’ nuff in the bottle
I’ll give you another good example
You see that gent in the wrinkled suit
He done damn near blown his cool to the bottle
He was a doctor helpin’ young girls along
If they wasn’t too far gone in her problems
But defenders of the dollar eagle said,
“What you doin, man, ain’t legal”
Now he’s in the bottle
And now we watch him everyday
He’s tryin’ to chase the prisons away from the bottle
He turned to me and he said to me, hey now
Don’t you think it’s a crime the way
Time after time 
Friends of mine in the bottle
There’s people sho nuff in the bottle
Come on, hit me the lick one time, stick
Uuh
I’ll tell you a little secret
If you ever come lookin’ for me
You know where I’m bound to be,
In the bottle
Turn around
Look around on any corner
If you see some brother lookin’ like a goner
It’s gonna be me
Sing the song
Na na na na na na na na na
na na na na na na na na na 
A dollar nine or a bottle of wine
A dollar nine, get a bottle of wine
A dollar nine, get a bottle of wine
A dollar nine, get a bottle of wine
The bottle
All that I’m concerned about is a bottle
It can turn me inside out for the bottle
All I want 
Said all I want
Said all I want
Said all I want since I’m livin in the bottle
A bottle
Sho nuff
Sho nuff
Sho nuff
Sho nuff sho nuff sho nuff sho nuff
Sho nuff
++++++++++++++
The Crutch
His eyes half-closed revealed his world of nod(?). 
a world of lonely men and no love. 
no god. 
his life of seeming nonchalance can’t hide 
the pain and fear that in his mind reside. 
from dawn till dawn his bodyhouse (/body, house?) was hurting and none of us can truly aid his search. 
we sat outside and ??? the ?? the fool 
it’s always easy to forecast others doom. 
the savage beast that once so soothed his brain, 
has wired his ugly head and stirred/stayed (?) its claim and 
called ??? 
here is his once more soul. he will have to add the sorrow’s total. 
this men, still men will be like you and me. 
upon the world reached out, they chose to flee. 
the crutch. 
++++++++++++++
The Klan
Countryside was cold and still 
There were three crosses on the hill 
Each one wore a burning hood 
To hide its rotten core of wood 
And I say father, father I hear an iron sound 
Hoof beats on the frozen ground 
And downhill the riders came 
Lord it was a cryin’ shame 
To see the blood upon their whips 
To hear the snarlin’ from their lips 
And I cried mother, mother I feel a stabbing pain 
Blood runs down like summers rain 
And each one wore a mask of white 
To hide his cruel face from sight 
And each one sucked a hungry breath 
Out of the empty lungs of death 
And I say sister, sister, I need you to take my hand 
It’s always lonely when it’s time to stand 
He who rides with the klan 
Is a devil and not a man 
For underneath his white disguise 
I have looked into his eyes 
And I say brother, brother, stand by me 
It’s not so easy to be free 
Father, mother, sister, brother, stand by me 
It’s not so easy to be free 
It’s not so easy to be free 
It’s not so easy to be free 
Nobody ever said it would be easy 
Nobody ever said it would be easy 
It’s not so easy, no it’s not so easy
++++++++++++++
The Needle’s Eye
A circle spinning faster
And getting larger all the time
A whirlpool spelled disaster
For all the people who don’t rhyme
Him who don’t fit through the needle’s eye
Him who just don’t understand
Understand, understand, understand
A brand new sense of freedom
A brand new sense of time
Him may go and stand alone now
And leave the hate and fear behind
All the millions spent for killing
Seems the whole world must be dying
All the children who go hungry
How much food we could be buying
Him who don’t fit through the needle’s eye
Him who just don’t understand
Understand, understand, understand
A brand new sense of freedom
A brand new sense of time
Him may go and stand alone now
And the leave the hate and fear behind
People wake up every morning
And simply push their lives aside
They seem to carry all their feelings
Crushed and crumbled up inside
Inside, inside, inside
Him who don’t fit through the needle’s eye
Him who just don’t understand
So I went to see my father
Many questions on my mind
But he didn’t want to answer me
God, the whole world must be blind
Him who don’t fit through the needle’s eye
Him may someday go insane
Insane, insane, insane
Without a brand new sense of freedom
A brand new sense of time
Him may go and stand alone now
And leave the hate and fear behind, yeah, behind
++++++++++++++
The New Deal
I have believed in my convictions 
And have been convicted for my beliefs
Conned by the constitution 
And harassed by the police.
I’ve been billed for the bill of rights 
And been treated like I was wrong.
I have become a special amendment
For what included me all along.
Like “All men are created equal.”
(No amendment needed here)
I’ve contributed in every field including cotton
From Sunset Strip to Washington Square.
Back during the non-violent era.
I was the only non-violent one.
As a matter of fact there was no non-violence
’cause too many rednecks had guns.
There seems to have been this pattern
That a lot of folks failed to pick up on.
But all black leaders who dared stand up
Wuz in jail, in the courtroom or gone.
Picked up indiscriminately
By the shocktroops of discrimination
To end up in jails or tied up in trails
While dirty tricks soured the nation.
I’ve been hoodwinked by professional hoods.
My ego has happened to me.
It’ll be alright, just keep things cool!”
“And take the people off the street.
We’ll settle all this at the conference table.
You just leave everything to me.”
Which gets me back to my convictions
And being convicted for my belief
’cause I believe these smiles
in three piece suits
with gracious, liberal demeanor
took our movement off of the streets
and took us to the cleaners
In other words, we let up the pressure
And that was all part of their plan
And every day we allow to slip through our fingers
Is playing right into their hands
++++++++++++++
The Other Side Part I
Sometimes I feel like I’m just wasting time
Looking for another side
Sometime I feel like I’m losing my mind ‘cause there ain’t
No other side
Sometimes I’m just spinning my wheels, ain’t no big deal
Morning, there’s another side
Sometimes I feel like I’m just standing in place, ain’t no real race
Ain’t no other side
Life is like a circle and you end up where you started
If you end up where you started ain’t no other side
Yeah, but if life is like a curtain that I’m 90% certain that I’m looking through at something
Yes, I’m almost touching something on the other side
Yeah, the opposite of new is old
The opposite of young is old
Seems like everything has got another side
Yeah, but young ones want to be old ones
Old ones know what they would do if they was young ones
People ain’t never really satisfied
People ain’t never satisfied
If life is like a mirror then the nearer you get clearer
You can see it so much clearer
Feel like you know about the other side
My friends all swear that they know
What I should do with my life
How I should run my life
What should be happening with my life
They’re on the other side
They’re on the outside
I’m on the inside
Things always look so much better on the other side
Four O’clock in the morning 
They don’t know
All the things I been needing 
They don’t know
Breaking out in a sweat
And they don’t know
Feeling down 
And they don’t know
They don’t know the other side
I need to go home
Momma could change it
Daddy could help me
Yes, I could go home
Yeah, Momma don’t need to see me this way
Know me this way 
Touch me this way
Love me this way
Find me this way
I can’t go home
I’m saying
I don’t want to call him
I don’t want to know him
I don’t want to need him
I don’t want to feel it
I don’t want to know
But I know, know know
Hey, home
So I say tomorrow
Tomorrow (repeat)
I’m going home
Tomorrow ain’t coming
Tomorrow will always where it was
Tomorrow (repeat)
I need to go home
Maybe I could start all over at home
Without the whispers
Hanging on me
Pulling on me, rolling with me
Pulling on me
Yes, I’d like to go home
Without the whispers
++++++++++++++
The Other Side, Part II
Kick it, quit it (x4) home
Told him, kick it, quit it (x3), can’t go home
I know when they told me, kick it, quit it (x3), can’t go home
Feeling so much worse now, kick it, quit it (x3), gotta go home
Yeah, my friends say “stop”
Told myself a 100 times I’m going stop
Yeah, my friends say “quit it”
They don’t know how many times I’ve said I gotta quit it
Then I say “tomorrow” (x14) hey, I’m going to stop
Yes, in the morning I’m gonna go home
Need a little bit of love in the morning, love in the morning
Somebody help me get over this thing
Got to go home
Feel like I could start all over at home
Make myself a brand new life at home
First I gotta face them down, say “kick it, quit it” (x4) home
Yeah, I’m gonna say “kick it, quit it” (x2) get back home
Yeah, I hear ’em say “kick it, quit it” (x2) can’t get home
Always on my mind say “kick it, quit it” (x2) can’t go home
++++++++++++++
The Other Side, Part III
Junkie walking through the twilight, I’m on my way home
I left three days ago, no one seems to know I’m gone
Home is where the hatred is, and home is filled with pain
But it might not be such a bad idea if I never, never went home again
Home is where I live inside my white powder dream
Home was once an empty vacuum but it’s filled now with my silent scream
Home is where the needle marks try to heal my broken heart
But it might not be such a bad idea if I never, never went home again
Stand as far away from me as you can and ask me why
Hang on to your rosary beads, close your eyes and watch me die
You keep saying, kick it, quit it, kick it, quit it
God, but did you ever try
And turn your sick soul inside out
So that the world, so that the world
Can watch you die (x3), say…
Home is where I live inside my white powder dream
Home was once an empty vacuum but it’s filled now with my silent scream
Home is where the needle marks try to heal my broken heart
But it might not be such a bad idea if I never, never went home again
Don’t you know I might never go home, never go home
Make all these plans and keep packing my bags
Not go, hey, not go
Keep saying… Tomorrow
First thing tomorrow
Tomorrow I’ll go
Know it all the time, I’m just biding time
Say, kick it, quit it
I might never go home, never go home
Pack all my bags and keep standing around
And down
And say I’m running and running
But I can’t get away
Everybody ain’t that strong, ain’t that strong
Go too long, feel yourself crash
kick it, quit it
can’t go home
holding onto something
kick it, quit it
can’t go home
yes, you’d like to go home
mamma could change it, daddy could fix it, yes, if you could go home
mama don’t need to see me this way, know me this way and touch me this way
love me this way, can’t go .. home
say it to myself…
kick it, quit it
can’t go home
I feel it in my soul
kick it, quit it
can’t go home
yes, yes, saying, saying
kick it, quit it
can’t go home
yes, but I know, but I know, but I…
can’t go home
yes, I’d like to go home, can’t go home
I could start all over
Like to go home
Say yeah, like to go home
++++++++++++++
The Prisoner
Here I am, after so many years
Hounded by hatred and trapped by fear
I’m in a box, I’ve got no place to go
If I follow my mind, I know I’ll slaughter my own.
Help me I’m the prisoner, won’t you hear my plea
I need somebody, yeah, to listen to me
I beg you, brothers and sisters, I’m counting on you (yeah).
Black babies in the womb are shackled and bound
Chained by the caveman who keeps beauty down
Smacked on the ass when they’re squalling and wet
Heir to a spineless man who never forgets
Never forgets that he’s a prisoner, can’t you hear my plea
Cause I need somebody, Lord knows, to listen to me
I’m a stranger to my son who wonders why his daddy runs.
On my way to work in the morning when I don’t give a damn
Can’t nobody (x4) see just who in hell I am
Hemmed in by a suit, yes all choked up in a tie
Ain’t no wonder some times near morning I hear my woman cry
She knows her man is a prisoner, won’t you hear my plea
Yeah, cause I need somebody, wooo, to listen to me
My woman she don’t say but she hates to see her man chained this way
Yeah, help me, I’m the prisoner
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m the prisoner
++++++++++++++
The 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 drop 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 interruption.
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 be brought to you by the Schaefer Award Theatre and
will not star Natalie Wood 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 Mays
Pushing that cart down the block on the dead run,
Or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not predict the winner at 8:32or the count 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 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 right occasion
Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and 
Hooterville Junction will no longer be so damned relevant,
andWomen 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 
About a whitetornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a germ on 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 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.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.
++++++++++++++
The Subject Was Faggots
and the quote was “ain’t nothin’ happenin’ but faggots and dope”
Faggots and dope, faggots and faggots and faggots who line dot dot dot dot dot
Like that, 34th street and 8th avenue
Giggling and grinning and prancing and shit
Trying their best to see to see the misses and misery
and miscellaneous misfits who attend the faggot ball
faggots who have come to ball
faggots who have come to ball
faggots who were balling because they couldn’t get their balls
inside the faggot hall
Balling, balling, ball-less faggots
cutie cootie and snoodie faggots
I mean you just had to dig it to dig it
the crowning attraction being the arrival of Ms Brooklyn
looking like a half-back in a mini-skirt
with swan feathers covering
his err hers a it’s pectoral and balls
and he err she or it prepared to enter the faggot ball
but sitting on the corner digging all that I did as I did
long long, black limousines and long flowin’ evening gowns
had there been no sign on the door saying “faggot ball”
I might have entered, and god only knows just what would’ve happened
++++++++++++++
The Train From Washington
During reconstruction time they were folks who have been promised 40 acres and a mule. And they were told a man with their legal papers could be expected on a train from Washington. They were folks who waited for him and there are folks still waiting for him. But you can’t depend on the train from Washington, it’s 100 years overdue…
You can depend on the stars and planets yeah
They’ll always tell you the truth
You can depend on the 15th of April Yeah
Somehow it always gets through
You can depend on the daily paper’s calls
They surely bring you the blues
But don’t depend on the train from Washington 
It’s one hundred years overdue
I see people, dragging on their own
I see them standing 
Anxious near the tracks
I see people, a long long way from home
Wondering how they’ll ever get back
You can depend on the politicians yeah
Always got a point of view
They are contemporary court magicians yeah
Sleight of mouth will dazzle you
You can depend on the repositions from them
Changes that you’ve got to go through
But don’t depend on the train from Washington 
It’s one hundred years overdue
I see people, on their way to work
I see factories bursting at the seams
I see people listening for the whistle
On the train that will carry their dreams
I see people, on their way to work
I see factories bursting at the seams
I see people listening for the whistle
On the train that will carry their dreams
You can depend on the folks and gravity
Cuz both of them will bring you down
You can depend on catching something Yeah
Cause something is going around
You can depend on the first two numbers, but
Damn if the last one come through
But don’t depend on the train from Washington 
It’s one hundred years overdue
You can’t depend on the train from Washington 
It’s one hundred years overdue
Oh lord you see
You can’t depend on the train from Washington 
It’s one hundred years overdue
Don’t you over
But don’t depend on the train from Washington 
Eh eh eh .. eh you know it might not make it
You can’t depend on the train from Washington 
Everybody knows it’s it’s it’s running late
You can’t depend on the train from Washington 
It’s one hundred years overdue
It’s long long time
You can’t depend on the train from Washington 
It’s one hundred years overdue 
++++++++++++++
The Vulture
Standing in the ruins 
Of another Black man’s life,
or flying through the valley 
They’re separating day and night.
“I am death,” cried the Vulture. 
“For the people of the light.”
Charon brought his raft 
and came from the sea that sails on souls,
And saw the scavenger departing, 
taking warm hearts to the cold.
He knew the ghetto was the haven 
for the meanest creature ever known.
In a wilderness of heartbreak 
and a desert of despair,
Evil’s carrion of justice 
shrieks a cry of naked terror.
He’s taking babies from their momas 
and leaving grief beyond compare.
So if you see the Vulture coming, 
he’s flying circles in your mind,
Remember there is no escaping 
for he will follow close behind.
Only promised me a battle, 
battle for your soul and mine.
He taking babies from their momas
And he’s leaving
Leaving
Leaving
++++++++++++++
Three Miles Down
Here come the mine cars; it’sdamn near dawn.
Another shift of men, some of my friends, comin’ on.
Hard to imagine workin’ in the mines;
Coal dust in your lungs, on your skin and on your mind.
I’ve listened to the speeches,
but it occours to me politicians just don’t understand;
the thoughts of isolation, ain’t no sunshine underground.
It’s like workin’ in a graveyard three miles down.
Damn near a legend as old as the mines:
things that happen in the pits just don’t change with the times.
Work ’till you’re exhausted in too little spacwe.
a history of desastrous fears etched on your face.
Somebody signs a paper, ev’ry body thinks it’s fine,
but Taft and Hartley ain’t done one day in the mines.
You start to stiffen! You heard a crackin’ sound!
It’s like workin’ in a graveyard three miles down.
++++++++++++++
Under The Hammer
Good advice is sure enough hard to come by
Bad advice surrounds you constantly
Good advice you just can’t put no price on
Bad advice is easy cus it’s free
But Through it all somehow we’re different
We think theres nothing to it so we plunge faithfully through it
No matter how hard it rains if we don’t profit from the change
We’re under the hammer totally
(talkin’ bout) Under the hammer from the day yous born 
Under the hammer and out there on your own
Good advice don’t make it if theres no one there to take it
You’re just under the hammer totally
Now I meant to tell you something about the drinkin’ 
Yeah But you don’t want to hear a word I say
Naw and You don’t care what I’ve been thinking
Because you control things your own way
And since you’ve got things under control
There ain’t nothing to it ain’t no reason you should do it
No matter how hard it rains if we don’t profit from the change
You’re back under the hammer totally
Under the hammer from the day yous born 
Under the hammer and out there on your own
Good advice don’t make it if theres no one there to take it
You’re just under the hammer totally
Good advice is sure enough hard to come by
When bad advice surrounds you constantly
Good advice you just can’t put no price on
And bad advice is easy cus its free
And through it all somehow we’re different
We think theres nothing to it so we plunge faithfully through it
And No matter how hard it rains if we don’t profit from the change
We’re under the hammer totally
You’re under the hammer from the day you was born 
Under the hammer and out there on your own
Good advice don’t make it if there’s no one there to take it
You’re just under the hammer totally
Under the hammer from the day you was born 
Ain’t no surprising you now you’re full grown
Under the hammer from the day yous born
Ain’t no surprising you now that you’re full grown
Good advice don’t make it if there’s no one there to take it
You’re just under the hammer totally
Location baby
Under the hammer (x5/Fade)
++++++++++++++
Vild (Deaf, Dumb And Blind)
<I know if you been lookin’ now you can see
yes and it’s closer than your nose, reality.
I know if you been listenin’ you done heard
how the people be cryin’ out for a soothing word.
And you can give ’em the word, but now don’t you despair, ain’t no rule that says they got to care. They can always swear they’re deaf dumb and blind.
It works one time. But nothing works forever.
(bridge) Offering one chance to boogie down.
Yes and the smack I got with me is the best in town.
You know everybody wanna get high every now and then.
Offering you a chance to dance and swing, come on, come on, yea.
I need you out here with me while I do my thing.>
++++++++++++++
Waiting For The Axe To Fall
Brother livin’ in a cell,
Doin’ time in a county jail,
Now you might think his life is hell,
But he told me, first room he ever had to himself
He’s just, waitin’ for the axe to fall,
Sometimes lord I think that’s all,
When you’re head is on a block
ain’t no way for it to stop
You’re just waitin’ for the axe to fall.
Brother served in Viet Nam,
and found out no one gives a damn.
Agent Orange fell on his camp (but everybody went deaf)
Brother turned around on Uncle Sam.
Waiting for the axe to fall;
Sometimes, Lord I think that’s all.
When your head is in the noose
and won’t nobody turn you loose
you’re waiting for the axe to fall.
Sister on the welfare line,
Examining the threads of her life,
She never thought she’d be cheatin’ and lyin’
Just makin’ sure her and her kids survive
It’s gettin’ tougher just, waitin’ for the axe to fall
Sometimes lord I think that’s all
When you’re head is on the block
and ain’t nobody trying to stop
You’re just waitin’ for the axe to fall
Last night grandma should got shook
’cause someone took her pocketbook
She ain’t safe in the neighborhood
’cause too many youngin’s up to no good
They’re just, waitin’ for the axe to fall
Sometimes lord I think that’s all
When your head is in the noose
and won’t nobody turn you loose
You’re waitin’ for the axe to fall
++++++++++++++
Washington, D.C.
Symbols of democracy, pinned up against the coast
Outhouse of bureaucracy, surrounded by a moat
Citizens of poverty are barely out of sight
Overlords escape in the evening with people of the night
Morning brings the tourists, peering eyes and rubber necks
To catch a glimpse of the cowboy making the world a nervous wreck
It’s a mass of irony for all the world to see
It’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C.
It’s the nation’s capital
It’s the nation’s capital
It’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C.
(mmmm-hmmm)
May not have the glitter or the glamour of L.A.
May not have the history or the intrigue of Pompeii
But when it comes to making music, and sure enough making news
People who just don’t make sense and people making do
Seems a ball of contradictions, pulling different ways
Between the folks who come and go, and one’s who’ve got to stay
It’s a mass of irony for all the world to see
It’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C.
It’s the nation’s capital
It’s the nation’s capital
It’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C.
Seems to me, it’s still in light time people knifed up on 14th street
Makes me feel it’s always the right time for them people showing up and coming clean
Did make the one seem kind of numb
It’s the nation’s capital
It’s the nation’s capital
It’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C.
(mmmm-hmmm)
Symbols of democracy, pinned up against the coast
Outhouse of bureaucracy, surrounded by a moat
Citizens of poverty are barely out of sight
Overlords escape in the evening with people of the night
Morning come and bring the tourists, craning rubber necks
Catch a glimpse of the cowboy making the world a nervous wreck
It’s a mass of irony for all the world to see
It’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C.
It’s the nation’s capital
It’s the nation’s capital
It’s the nation’s capital, it’s Washington D.C.
It’s the nation’s capital
Got you feeling capital
Punishment is capital in Washington D.C.
++++++++++++++
We Almost Lost Detroit
It stands out on a highway 
like a Creature from another time. 
It inspires the babies’ questions, 
“What’s that?” 
For their mothers as they ride. 
But no one stopped to think about the babies 
or how they would survive, 
and we almost lost Detroit 
this time. 
How would we ever get over 
losing our minds? 
Just thirty miles from Detroit 
stands a giant power station. 
It ticks each night as the city sleeps 
seconds from anniahlation. 
But no one stopped to think about the people 
or how they would survive, 
and we almost lost Detroit 
this time. 
How would we ever get over 
over losing our minds? 
The sherrif of Monroe county had, 
sure enough disasters on his mind, 
and what would karen Silkwood say 
if she was still alive? 
That when it comes to people’s safety 
money wins out every time. 
and we almost lost Detroit 
this time, this time. 
How would we ever get over 
over losing our minds? 
You see, we almost lost Detroit 
that time. 
Almost lost Detroit 
that time. 
And how would we ever get over… 
Cause odds are, 
we gonna lose somewhere, one time. 
Odds are 
we gonna lose somewhere sometime. 
And how would we ever get over 
losing our minds? 
And how would we ever get over 
losing our minds? 
Didn’t they, didn’t they decide? 
Almost lost Detroit 
that time. 
Damn near totally destroyed, 
one time. 
Didn’t all of the world know? 
Say didn’t you know? 
Didn’t all of the world know? 
Say didn’t you know? 
We almost lost detroit…
++++++++++++++
We Beg Your Pardon (Pardon Our Analysis)
We’d like to do an idea for you that was related to the H2OGaTe, Watergate blues
In March of 1973, we wrote the Watergate blues, and some 17 months later, then-President Nixon resigned
But the story didn’t end there, so we didn’t stop there
We have prepared a sequel, and it’s called, and it’s called “We Beg Your Pardon America”
We beg your pardon because the pardon you gave this time, was not yours to give
They call it due process and some people are overdue
We beg your pardon America
Somebody said “brother-man gonna break a window, gonna steal a hubcap, gonna smoke a joint, brother man gonna go to jail”
The man who tried to steal America is not in jail
“Get caught with a nickel bag brother-man, get caught with a nickel bag”, says the lady on your way to get your hair fixed
“You’ll do Big Ben, and Big Ben is time”
But the man who tried to fix America will not do time
Said they’re going to slap his wrists, gonna retire him with 850 thousand dollars
And America was “shocked”
America leads the world in shocks
Unfortunately, America does not lead the world in deciphering the cause of shock
850 thousand dollars they said and the people protested and so they saw it like “we’ll give him 200 thousand dollars” 
Everybody said “OK, that’s better”
I’d like to retire with 200 thousand dollars some day
San Quentin not San Clemente
Do not pass go, go directly to jail, do not collect 200 thousand dollars
We beg your pardon America
We beg your pardon because somehow the pardon did not sit correctly
What were – what were the causes for this pardon?
Well now they had “flea bite us”
Rats bite us, no pardon in the ghetto
They had national security, but do you feel secure with the man who tried to steal America back on the streets again?
What are the results of this pardon though? Because remember, when there’s causes, there’s results and the results is always deeper still
We now have Oatmeal Man
Anytime you find someone in the middle,
Anytime you find someone who is tepid,
Anytime you find someone who is lukewarm,
Anytime you find someone who has been in Congress for 25 years and no one ever heard of him,
You’ve got Oatmeal Man
Oatmeal Man, straddling uncomfortably, yards and feet of barbed wire
It’s hard to live in the middle all the time
Oatmeal Man, the man who said you could fit all of his black friends in the trunk of his car and still have room for the Republican elephant
Oatmeal Man
But there was no crime committed
Oatmeal Man says that “America, in 1975 your president will be a 1913 Ford”
Regressive
Circle up the wagons to defend yourself from nuclear attack
Oatmeal Man, reminiscent of 1964’s AuH2O, Gold Water
Thank god he didn’t win, but Oatmeal man didn’t win
Did you vote for him? I didn’t vote for him
But that’s the first results, and the second would be the Dred Rockefeller
Doubtlessly being promoted for the job he did at Attica, 43 dead and millions of Americans once again in shock
Doubtlessly being promoted for the job he did on the streets of New York city where the pushers sell the drugs that the government allows in the country, and then they do time
They do life, and death or life, and death behind bars, while William Saxbe says he is going to dismiss the Lorton Furlough program
And brother Richard X of Buffalo New York faces 13 hundred and 65 years – did he say one thousand three hundred and sixty five years? – behind bars for participating in Attica
And Rockefeller faces being the Vice President of this country
And all is calm and quiet along the white sands at San Clemente
We beg your pardon America, we beg your pardon once again
Because we found out that seven out of every ten black men behind jail, and most of the men behind jail are black
Seven out of every ten black men never went to the ninth grade
Didn’t have 50 dollars and hadn’t had 100 for a month when they went to jail
So the poor and the ignorant go to jail while the rich go to San Clemente
We beg your pardon America because we understand now much more deeply than we understood before
But we don’t want to take the pardon back, we want to issue some more
Pardon brother Frank Willis, the Watergate security guard, he was only doing his job
Pardon H. Rap Brown, it was only burglary
Pardon Robert Vesco, it was only embezzlement
Pardon Charles Manson, it was only mass murder
And pardon us while we get sick
Because they pardoned William Calley, 22 dead, and America in shock
And we understand all the more deeply, and we beg your pardon
As unemployment spirals toward 7 percent, and it seems like 70 percent in my neighborhood
As unemployment spirals and as we watch cattlemen on TV shoot cows in the head and kick ’em in the graves while millions are starving in the Sahel and Honduras and maybe even next door
We understand all the more deeply as Boston becomes Birmingham becomes Little Rock becomes Selma becomes Philadelphia, Mississippi, becomes yesterday all over again
We understand and we beg your pardon
We beg your pardon America because we have an understanding of karma
What goes around, comes around
And we beg your pardon for all of the lies and all of the people who’ve been ruined and who look forward to next year because they can’t stand to look at this one
We beg your pardon America because the pardon you gave this time was not yours to give
Thank you very much. Thank you very much.
++++++++++++++
When You Are Who You Are
You always go out of your way to impress me
Don’t you know by now, ain’t no need to impress me
I’m impressed every time you smile
When I feel like you mean to smile
Cuz you can be so very beautiful
When you are who you are
Every morning when you wake up, you put on a new disguise
How long did you think it would take me to realize?
Girl, the things you wore ain’t real
You never tell me how you feel
Cuz you could be so very beautiful
When you are who you are
People never seem to want to be themselves
So they end up running in circles, confused
Yes confused just like everyone else
Every morning when you wake up, you put on a new disguise
Just how long did you think it would take me to realize?
That the things you were ain’t real
You never tell me just how you feel
When you could be so very beautiful
When you are who you are
Yea when you are who you are
When you are who you are, yea
When you are who you are
++++++++++++++
Where Did The Night Go
Long ago the clock washed midnight away
Bringing the dawn
Oh God, I must be dreaming
Time to get up again
And time to start up again
Pulling on my socks again
Should have been asleep
When I was sitting there drinking beer
And trying to start another letter to you
Don’t know how many times I dreamed to write again last night
Should’ve been asleep when I turned the stack of records over and over
So I wouldn’t be up by myself
Where did the night go?
Should go to sleep now
And say fuck a job and money
Because I spend it all on unlined paper and can’t get past
“Dear baby, how are you?”
Brush my teeth and shave
Look outside, sky is dark
Think it may rain
Where did
Where did
++++++++++++++
Whitey On The Moon
A rat done bit my sister Nell.
(with Whitey on the moon)
Her face and arms began to swell.
(and Whitey’s on the moon)
I can’t pay no doctor bills.
(but Whitey’s on the moon)
Ten years from now I’ll be payin’ still
While Whitey’s on the moon.
You know, the man jus’ upped my rent las’ night,
’cause Whitey’s on the moon. 
No hot water, no toilets, no lights,
but Whitey’s on the moon.
I wonder why he’s uppi’ me? 
’cause Whitey’s on the moon?
Well I wuz already givin’ ‘im fifty a week
And now Whitey’s on the moon.
Taxes takin’ my whole damn check, 
The junkies make me a nervous wreck, 
The price of food is goin’ up, 
An’ as if all that crap wuzn’t enough,
A rat done bit my sister Nell. 
(with Whitey on the moon) 
Her face an’ arms began to swell
And Whitey’s on the moon.
Was all that money I made las’ year 
For Whitey on the moon?
How come I ain’t got no money here? 
Hmm! Whitey’s on the moon.
Y’know I jus’ about had my fill 
Of Whitey on the moon.
I think I’ll sen’ these doctor bills, 
Airmail special
++++++++++++++
Who’ll Pay Reparations On My Soul?
Many suggestions 
And documents written.
Many directions
For the end that was given.
They gave us
Pieces of silver and pieces of gold.
Tell me,
Who’ll pay reparations on my soul?
Many fine speeches (oh yeah)
From the White House desk (uh huh)
Written on the cue cards
That were never really there. Yes,
But the heat and the summer were there
And the freezing winter’s cold. Now
Tell me,
Who’ll pay reparations on my soul?
Call my brother a junkie ’cause he ain’t got no job (no job, no job).
Told my old man to leave me when times got hard (so hard).
Told my mother she got to carry me all by herself.
And now that I want to be a man (be a man) who can depend on no one else (oh yeah).
What about the red man
Who met you at the coast?
You never dig sharing;
Always had to have the most.
And what about Mississippi,
The boundary of old? 
Tell me,
Who’ll pay reparations on my soul?
Call my brother a junkie ’cause he ain’t got no job
Told my old man to leave me when times got hard (so hard).
Told my mother she got to carry me all by herself.
Wanna be a man that can depend on no one else (oh yeah).
What about the red man,
Who met you at the coast?
You never dig sharing;
Always had to have the most.
And what about Mississippi,
The boundaries of old? 
Tell me,
Who’ll pay reparations on my soul?
Many fine speeches (oh yeah)
From the White House desk (uh huh)
Written on the cue cards
That were never really there. Yes,
But the heat and the summer were there
And the freezing winter’s cold.
Tell me,
Who’ll pay reparations on my soul?
Who’ll pay reparations,
‘Cause I don’t dig segregation, but I
can’t get integration
I got to take it to the United Nations,
Someone to help me away from this nation.
Tell me,
Who’ll pay reparations on my soul?
++++++++++++++
Willing
(Verse 1)
We’ve all heard so many conflicting words
About life, whether wrong or right
How you gotta be workin’ hard
And it ain’t no easy job
To survive. Just keep it alive
We’ve all come to think of ourselves as links
In a chain, so much to gain
We are the ones who tie our fathers to our sons
Don’t you know, that’s how we grow
(Chorus)
What my life really means is that the songs that I sing
Are just pieces of a dream that I’ve been building
And we can make a stand and hey, I’m reachin’ out my hand
‘Cause I know damn well we can if we are willing
But we gotta be….
Got to be willing (X3)
(Verse 2)
Well we’ve all been so close to getting in
It’s always nice, with no sacrifice
But times have changed and it’s no longer strange
To make a few corrections in our direction
‘Cause being strong is more than just holdin’ on
To advance, you gotta take a chance
Waitin’ on line, it ain’t nothin’ but marking time
Won’t get nowhere, just standing there
Chorus
Verse 1
What my life really means is that the songs that I sing
Are just pieces of a dream that I’ve been building
And we can make a stand and hey, I’m reachin’ for your hand
‘Cause I know damn well we can if we are willing
But we gotta be….
Got to be willing (X3)
(Repeat last chorus)
++++++++++++++
Winter In America
From the Indians who welcomed the pilgrims
And to the buffalo who once ruled the plains
Like the vultures circling beneath the dark clouds
Looking for the rain
Looking for the rain
Just like the cities staggered on the coastline
Living in a nation that just can’t stand much more
Like the forest buried beneath the highway
Never had a chance to grow
Never had a chance to grow
And now it’s winter
Winter in America
Yes and all of the healers have been killed
Or sent away, yeah
But the people know, the people know
It’s winter
Winter in America
And ain’t nobody fighting 
‘Cause nobody knows what to save
Save your soul, Lord knows
From Winter in America
The Constitution
A noble piece of paper
With free society
Struggled but it died in vain
And now Democracy is ragtime on the corner
Hoping for some rain
Looks like it’s hoping
Hoping for some rain
And I see the robins
Perched in barren treetops
Watching last-ditch racists marching across the floor
But just like the peace sign that vanished in our dreams
Never had a chance to grow
Never had a chance to grow
And now it’s winter
It’s winter in America
And all of the healers have been killed
Or been betrayed
Yeah, but the people know, people know
It’s winter, Lord knows
It’s winter in America
And ain’t nobody fighting
Cause nobody knows what to save
Save your souls
From Winter in America
And now it’s winter
Winter in America
And all of the healers done been killed or sent away
Yeah, and the people know, people know
It’s winter
Winter in America
And ain’t nobody fighting
Cause nobody knows what to save
And ain’t nobody fighting
Cause nobody knows, nobody knows
And ain’t nobody fighting
Cause nobody knows what to save
++++++++++++++
Work For Peace
Back when Eisenhower was the President,
Golf courses was where most of his time was spent.
So I never really listened to what the President said,
Because in general I believed that the General was politically dead.
But he always seemed to know when the muscles were about to be flexed,
Because I remember him saying something, mumbling something about a Military Industrial Complex.
Americans no longer fight to keep their shores safe,
Just to keep the jobs going in the arms making workplace.
Then they pretend to be gripped by some sort of political reflex,
But all they’re doing is paying dues to the Military Industrial Complex.
The Military and the Monetary,
The Military and the Monetary,
The Military and the Monetary.
The Military and the Monetary,
get together whenever they think its necessary,
They turn our brothers and sisters into mercenaries, they are turning the planet into a cemetery.
The Military and the Monetary, use the media as intermediaries,
they are determined to keep the citizens secondary, they make so many decisions that are arbitrary.
We’re marching behind a commander in chief,
who is standing under a spotlight shaking like a leaf.
but the ship of state had landed on an economic reef,
so we knew he was going to bring us messages of grief.
The Military and the Monetary,
were shielded by January and went storming into February,
Brought us pot bellied generals as luminaries,
two weeks ago I hadn’t heard of the son of a bitch,
now all of a sudden he’s legendary.
They took the honour from the honourary,
they took the dignity from the dignitaries,
they took the secrets from the secretary,
but they left the bitch in obituary.
The Military and the Monetary,
from thousands of miles away in a Saudi Arabian sanctuary,
had us all scrambling for our dictionaries,
cause we couldn’t understand the fuckin vocabulary.
Yeah, there was some smart bombs,
but there was some dumb ones as well,
scared the hell out of CNN in that Baghdad hotel.
The Military and the Monetary,
they get together whenever they think its necessary,
War in the desert sometimes sure is scary,
but they beamed out the war to all their subsidiaries.
Tried to make So Damn Insane a worthy adversary,
keeping the citizens secondary,
scaring old folks into coronaries.
The Military and the Monetary,
from thousands of miles in a Saudi Arabian sanctuary,
kept us all wondering if all of this was really truely, necessary.
We’ve got to work for Peace,
Peace ain’t coming this way.
If we only work for Peace,
If everyone believed in Peace the way they say they do,
we’d have Peace.
The only thing wrong with Peace,
is that you can’t make no money from it.
The Military and the Monetary,
they get together whenever they think its necessary,
they’ve turned our brothers and sisters into mercenaries,
they are turning the planet, into a cemetery.
Got to work for Peace,
Peace ain’t coming this way.
We should not allow ourselves to be mislead,
by talk of entering a time of Peace,
Peace is not the absence of war,
it is the absence of the rules of war and the threats of war and the preparation for war.
Peace is not the absence of war,
it is the time when we will all bring ourselves closer to each other,
closer to building a structure that is unique within ourselves
because we have finally come to Peace within ourselves.
The Military and the Monetary,
The Military and the Monetary,
The Military and the Monetary.
Get together whenever they think its necessary,
they’ve turned our brothers and sisters into mercenaries,
they are turning parts of the planet, into a cemetery.
The Military and the Monetary,
The Military and the Monetary,
We hounded the Ayatollah religiously,
Bombed Libya and killed Quadafi’s son hideously.
We turned our back on our allies the Panamanians,
and saw Ollie North selling guns to the Iranians.
Watched Gorbachev slaughtering Lithuanians,
We better warn the Amish,
they may bomb the Pennsylvanians.
The Military and the Monetary,
get together whenever they think its necessary,
they have turned our brothers and sisters into mercenaries,
they are turning the planet, into a cemetery.
I don’t want to sound like no late night commercial,
but its a matter of fact that there are thousands of children all over the world
in Asia and Africa and in South America who need our help.
When they start talking about 55 cents a day and 70 cents a day,
I know a lot of folks feel as though that,
thats not really any kind of contribution to make,
but we had to give up a dollar and a half just to get in the subway nowadays.
So this is a song about tommorrow and about how tommorrow can be better. if we all,
“Each one reach one, Each one try to teach one”.
Nobody can do everything,
but everybody can do something,
everyone must play a part,
everyone got to go to work, Work for Peace.
Spirit Say Work, Work for Peace
If you believe the things you say, go to work.
If you believe in Peace, time to go to work.
Cant be wavin your head no more, go to work.
++++++++++++++
Your Daddy Loves You
Now sweet lil ol’ brown eyed girl, hey, now
Now that you’re sleepin’
I’ve got a confession to make 
Of secrets that I’ve been keepin’
Me and your mama had some problems,
A whole lotta things on our minds
But lately, girl, we’ve been thinkin’ that we were wastin’ time
Nearly all the time, and
Your daddy loves you
Your daddy loves his girl
Your daddy loves you
Your daddy loves his girl, hey now
Now sweet lil ol’ chocolate girl
Now that you’re sleepin’ I feel braver
I’ve got a confession to make
I’ll sneak it in while you’re dreamin’
Me and your mama had some troubles
There’s been a whole lotta things on our minds
But lately when we look at you, we know that we’ve been wastin’ time
Damn near all the time, and
Your daddy loves you
Your daddy loves his girl, hey, now
Said your daddy loves you
Said your daddy loves his girl, hey, now
Your daddy loves you, and your mama, too
Your daddy loves his girl
Loves his girl
Loves his girl
++++++++++++++
Your Soul And Mine
Standing in the ruins of another black man’s life
Or flying through the valley separating day and night
“I am death!” cried the vulture for the people of the light
Karon brought his raft from the sea that sails on souls
And saw the scavenger departing, taking warm hearts to the cold
He knew the ghetto was a haven for the meanest preacher ever known
In the wilderness of heartbreak and a desert of despair
Evil’s clarion of justice shrieks a cry of naked terror
Taking babies from their mamas, leaving grief beyond compare
So if you see the vulture coming, flying circles in your mind
Remember there is no escaping for he will follow close behind
Only promise me a battle, battle for your soul and mine
And mine

 

 

One comment

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