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Archive through March 24, 2003

Sepulchritude Forum » The Absinthe Forum » The Monkey Hole » War Songs to party by ... Please post here. » Archive through March 24, 2003 « Previous Next »

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Jack Collins (_blackjack_)
Absinthe Mafia
Username: _blackjack_

Post Number: 885
Registered: 11-2000


Posted on Monday, March 24, 2003 - 10:51 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

I'm your one-stop shop for useless information...
Barsnake (Barsnake)
le Duc
Username: Barsnake

Post Number: 171
Registered: 4-2002
Posted on Monday, March 24, 2003 - 9:11 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Thanks, Jack, for the original - I knew of the tune and some of the lyrics...but not in its entirety. Yes indeed, quite a different tone.
and the beat goes on...
Pataphysician (Pataphysician)
Elitist Bastard
Username: Pataphysician

Post Number: 504
Registered: 5-2001
Posted on Sunday, March 23, 2003 - 2:33 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

HERE'S A GREAT ANTI-CONSCRIPTION SONG, "ARTHUR MCBRIDE"

Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride,
As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside,
Mark now what followed and what did betide,
For it bein' on Christmas mornin'
Now, for recreation, we went on a tramp,
And we met Sergeant Napper and Corporal Vamp
And a little wee drummer intending to camp,
For the day bein' pleasant and charmin'.

"Good morning, good morning," the Sergeant he cried.
"And the same to you, gentlemen," we did reply,
Intending no harm but meant to pass by,
For it bein' on Christmas mornin'
"But," says he, "My fine fellows, if you will enlist,
Ten guineas in gold I'll stick to your fist,
And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust,
And drink the king's health in the morning.

"For a soldier, he leads a very fine life,
And he always is blessed with a charming young wife,
And he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife,
And he always lives pleasant and charmin',
And a soldier, he always is decent and clean,
In the finest of clothing he's constantly seen.
While other poor fellows go dirty and mean,
And sup on thin gruel in the morning."

"But," says Arthur, "I wouldn't be proud of your clothes,
For you've only the lend of them, as I suppose,
But you dare not change them one night, for you know
If you do, you'll be flogged in the morning,
And although that we're single and free,
We take great delight in our own company,
We have no desire strange places to see,
Although that your offers are charming.

"And we have no desire to take your advance,
All hazards and dangers we barter on chance,
For you'd have no scruples for to send us to France,
Where we would get shot without warning,"
"Oh no," says the Sergeant. "I'll have no such chat,
And neither will I take it from snappy young brats,
For if you insult me with one other word,
I'll cut off your heads in the morning."

And Arthur and I, we soon drew our hogs,
And we scarce gave them time to draw their own blades
When a trusty shillelagh came over their head
And bid them take that as fair warning.
And their old rusty rapiers that hung by their sides,
We flung them as far as we could in the tide,
"Now take them up, devils!" cried Arthur McBride,
"And temper their edge in the mornin'!"

And the little wee drummer, we flattened his bow,
And we made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow,
Threw it in the tide for to rock and to roll,
And bade it a tedious returning,
And we havin' no money, paid them off in cracks.
We paid no respect to their two bloody backs,
And we lathered them there like a pair of wet sacks,
And left them for dead in the morning.

And so, to conclude and to finish disputes,
We obligingly asked if they wanted recruits,
For we were the lads who would give them hard clouts
And bid them look sharp in the mornin'.

Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride,
As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside,
Mark now what followed and what did betide,
For it bein' on Christmas mornin'
Jack Collins (_blackjack_)
Absinthe Mafia
Username: _blackjack_

Post Number: 883
Registered: 11-2000


Posted on Sunday, March 23, 2003 - 9:53 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Barsnake:

Here is the ORIGINAL version of "When Johnny Comes Marching Home." It's not quite so cheery...

Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye

While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy
A stick in me hand and a drop in me eye
A doleful damsel I heard cry,
Johnny I hardly knew ye.
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns
The enemy nearly slew ye
Oh my darling dear, Ye look so queer
Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild
When my heart you so beguiled
Why did ye run from me and the child
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run
When you went for to carry a gun
Indeed your dancing days are done
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home
All from the island of Sulloon
So low in flesh, so high in bone
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg
Ye're an armless, boneless, chickenless egg
Ye'll have to put with a bowl out to beg
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again
But they never will take our sons again
No they never will take our sons again
Johnny I'm swearing to ye.
Jack Collins (_blackjack_)
Absinthe Mafia
Username: _blackjack_

Post Number: 882
Registered: 11-2000


Posted on Sunday, March 23, 2003 - 9:49 am:   Edit PostPrint Post


quote:

"[...] Inspired by this flag, Francis Scott Key wrote our national anthem to the tune of an English drinking song."



And here is the drinking song in question (more properly an anthem of the Anacreontic Society, a 18th C. gentleman's club, who did a lot of drinking...)

To Anacreon in Heav'n, where he sat in full glee,
A few Sons of Harmony sent a petition;
That he their Inspirer and Patron wou'd be;
When this answer arrived from the Jolly Old Grecian;
"Voice, Fiddle, and Flute,
No longer be mute,
I'll lend you my name and inspire you to boot,
And besides I'll instruct you like me, to intwine,
The Myrtle of Venus with Bacchus's Vine."

The news through Olympus immediately flew;
When Old Thunder pretended to give himself airs.
If these Mortals are suffered their scheme to pursue,
The Devil, a Goddess, will stay above stairs.
"Hark," already they cry,
"In transports of joy,
Away to the Sons of Anacreon we'll fly.
And besides I'll instruct you like me, to intwine,
The Myrtle of Venus with Bacchus's Vine.

The Yellow-Haired God and his nine lusty Maids,
From Helion's banks will incontinent flee,
Idalia will boast but of tenantless Shades,
And the bi-forked hill a mere desert will be.
My Thunder no fear on't,
Shall soon do it's errand,
And damme I'll swing the Ringleaders I warrant,
I'll trim the young dogs, for thus daring to twine,
The Myrtle of Venus with Bacchus's Vine."

Apollo rose up and said, "Pry'thee ne'er quarrel,
Good sing of the Gods with my Vot'ries below:
Your Thunder is useless"--then showing his laurel,
Cry'd "Sic evitable fulmen" you know!
"Then over each head
My laurels I'll spread
So my sons from your Crackers no mischief shall dread,
While snug in their clubroom, they jovially twine,
The Myrtle of Venus with Bacchus's Vine.'

Next Momus got up with his risible Phiz
And swore with Apollo he'd cheerfully join--
'The full tide of Harmony still shall be his,
But the Song, and the Catch, and the Laugh,
shall be mine.
Then Jove be not jealous
Of these honest fellows,"
Cry'd Jove, "We relent since the truth you now tell us;
And swear by Old Styx, that they long shall intwine,
The Myrtle of Venus with Bacchus's Vine."

Ye Sons of Anacreon then join hand in hand;
Preserve Unanimity, Friendship, and Love!
'Tis yours to support what's so happily plann'd;
You've the sanction of Gods, and the Fiat of Jove.
While thus we agree,
Our toast let it be:
"May our Club flourish Happy, United, and Free!
And long may the Sons of Anacreon intwine,
The Myrtle of Venus with Bacchus's Vine."

Lordhobgoblin (Lordhobgoblin)
Absinthe Mafia
Username: Lordhobgoblin

Post Number: 725
Registered: 10-2000


Posted on Sunday, March 23, 2003 - 12:36 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

As for the Turks entering Kurdish Northern Iraq. UK defence minister Geoff Hoon was questioned on this at a press conference and described the Turkish actions as a bit of minor border policing.

As for a song I'll go for Elvis Costello's Invasion Hit Parade :

Now that you set everybody free
What are you going to do about me?
Don't want to be treated like some poor grateful clown
I'd rather go back to the sweet underground
Where I can tell by the colour of my skin
And I know my neighbour 'cos he's the one, yes he's the one
Who always turns me in

A woman works the tunnel in the middle of the night
Picking up every lost object in sight
Handbags, toupees, lost legs and fingernails
The black market eats up all your failures
Her transistor offers no salvation or regrets
No pool, no pets, no cigarettes
Just non-stop Disco Tex and the Sex-o-lettes

CHORUS
There's no name, no name for the place or pain we'll cause you again and again
If you do not co-operate with the Invasion Hit Parade

The liberation forces make movies of their own
Playing their Doors records and pretending to be stoned
Drowning out a broadcast that wasn't authorised
Incidentally the revolution will be televised
With one head for business and another for good looks
Until they started arriving with their rubber aprons and their butcher's hooks

CHORUS

They're hunting us down here with Liberty's light
A handshaking double talking procession of the mighty
Pursued by a T.V. crew and coming after them
A limousine of singing stars and their brotherhood anthem
The former dictator was impeccably behaved
They're mopping up all the stubborn ones who just refuse to be saved

CHORUS

or Billy Bragg's 'Like Soldiers Do'

Blues eyes fighting the grey eyes fighting the tears
Armed to the teeth for a war of words reaching all the years
I advanced across a poppy field
I saw the gleam as you raised your shield
And love screamed down with the sun behind its back

Our Fathers were all soldiers,
Shall we be soldiers too
Fighting and falling like soldiers do

Nothing is clear in this tactical unclear war
I can't be bothered to find out what we are fighting for
No one can win this war of the senses
I see no reason to drop my defences
So stand fast my emotions,
Rally round my shaking heart

Our Fathers were all soldiers,
Shall we be soldiers too
Fighting and falling like soldiers do

Blue eyes fighting the grey eyes fighting the tears
Armed to the teeth for a war of words reaching all the years
I advanced across a poppy field
I saw the gleam as you raised your shield
And love screamed down with the sun behind its back

I knew once again I was under attack
So stand fast my emotions,
Rally round my shaking heart

Our Fathers were all soldiers,
Shall we be soldiers too
Fighting and falling like soldiers
Fighting and falling like soldiers
Fighting and falling like soldiers do



Althea (Rosietwobears)
Mousquetaire
Username: Rosietwobears

Post Number: 35
Registered: 10-2002


Posted on Saturday, March 22, 2003 - 2:42 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Sleater-Kinney - Combat Rock:

They tell us there are only two sides to be on
If you are on our side you're right if not you're wrong
But are we innocent, paragons of good?
Is our guilt erased by the pain that we've endured?

He look it's time to pledge allegiance
Oh god I love my dirty Uncle Sam
Out country's marching to the beat now
And we must learn to step in time

Where is the questioning where is the protest song?
Since when is skepticism un-American?
Dissent's not treason but they talk like it's the same
Those who disagree are afraid to show their face

Let's break out our old machines now
It sure is good to see them run again
Oh gentlemen start your engines
And we know where we get the oil from

Are you feeling alright now
Paint myself all red white blue
Are you singing let's fight now
Innocent people die, uh oh
There are reasons to unite
Is this why we unite?
If you hate this time
Remember we are the time!

Show you love your country go out and spend some cash
Red white blue hot pants doing it for Uncle Sam
Flex our muscles show them we're stronger than the rest
Raise your hands up baby are you sure that we're the best?

We'll come out with our fists raised
The good old boys are back on top again
And if we let them lead us blindly
The past becomes the future once again
Absinthe maketh the heart grow fonder
Pervert Euchre (Perruche_verte)
Elitist Bastard
Username: Perruche_verte

Post Number: 423
Registered: 12-2000


Posted on Friday, March 21, 2003 - 4:13 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

Well I lost an eye in Mexico
Lost two teeth where I don't know
People see me comin' and they move to the other side of the road
I robbed a liquor store to make myself at home a few times
Borrowed myself a car when I needed it
I got me a shack at the bottom of the road
Fixin' cars and givin' tows
Spendin' all my money on the lottery
When I win the lottery gonna buy all girls on my block
A color TV and a bottle of French perfume
When I win the lottery gonna donate half my money to the city
So they have to name a street or a school or a park after me
When I win the lottery
Never run a flag up a pole
Like mr. red, white, and blue down the road
But I never called myself a hero for killing unknown communists
Now I can walk into any old bar
And find a fight without looking too hard
But I never killed someone I don't know just 'cause someone told me to
And when I win the lottery
Gonna buy the house next to mr. red, white and blue
And when I win the lottery
Gonna buy Post 306 American Legion, paint it red with five gold stars
When I win the lottery
When the end comes to this old world
The rights will cry and the rest will curl up
And God won't take the time to sort your ashes from mine
'Cause we zig and zag between good and bad
Stumble and fall on right and wrong
'Cause the tumbling dice and the luck of the draw just leads us on
And when I win the lottery, gonna buy all the girls on my block
Silver-plated six shooters and a quart of the finest highland scotch
'Cause when I win the lottery, the rights will shake their heads and say that
God is good but surely works in mysterious ways
When I win the lottery

(Camper Van Beethoven)


"Drink accomplished what God did not." --Marguerite Duras
Pataphysician (Pataphysician)
Elitist Bastard
Username: Pataphysician

Post Number: 502
Registered: 5-2001
Posted on Friday, March 21, 2003 - 6:25 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

When Johnny comes marching home again
Hurrah! Hurrah!
He's coming by bus or underground
Hurrah! Hurrah!
A woman's eye will shed a tear
To see his face so beaten in fear
An' it was just around the corner in the English Civil War
It was still at the stage of clubs and fists
Hurrah! Hurrah!
When that well-known face got beaten to bits
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Your face was blue in the light of the screen
As we watched the speech of an animal scream
The new party army was marching right over our heads

There your are, ha ha, I told you so
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Says everybody that we know
Hurrah! Hurrah!
But who hid a radio under the stairs
An' who got caught out on their unawares?
When that new party army cam marching right up the stairs
When Johnny comes marching home again
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Nobody understands it can happen again
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The sun is shining an' the kids are shouting loud
But you gotta know it's shining through a crack in the cloud
And the shadows keep falling when Johnny comes marching home
Barsnake (Barsnake)
le Duc
Username: Barsnake

Post Number: 169
Registered: 4-2002
Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 4:24 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

I understand your sentiment about the death and destruction...a song (maybe not anti war) that is celebratory in honoring the returnees may help.

I do not, however, agree with your statements about whether we should be there doing what we are doing or how the world will think of us later. I do not have the time or energy to argue. That topic has been well covered in other threads.

The songs are an interesting expression of different frames of mind - and I enjoy them all.

When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We'll give him a hearty welcome then
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The men will cheer and the boys will shout
The ladies they will all turn out
And we'll all feel gay,
When Johnny comes marching home.

The old church bell will peal with joy
Hurrah! Hurrah!
To welcome home our darling boy
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The village lads and lassies say
With roses they will strew the way,
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.

Get ready for the Jubilee,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We'll give the hero three times three,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The laurel wreath is ready now
To place upon his loyal brow
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.
and the beat goes on...
Carl Guderian (Bjacques)
le Duc
Username: Bjacques

Post Number: 220
Registered: 4-2001
Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 4:10 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

It's hard to find a good anti-war song that doesn't imagine the death of the soldiers going off to fight. I don't *want* fellow Americans, at least the ones actually doing the fighting, to get killed. But nor is this a war the US particularly deserves to win (by the way, the Turks started moving in to do a little dirty work up north off-camera. Except for a Kurdish demonstration on the Leidseplein, I don't think anyone's paying attention).

It's not just the war that's got me down, but the bigger picture-- this government's willful squandering of domestic and world goodwill to the point of earning the disgust of nine-tenths of the planet, for no good reason. And in just two years.

Fall Apart, by Death In June

And if I wake from dreams
Shall I fall in pastures
Will I wake the darkness
Shall we torch the earth

And if I wake from dreams
Shall we find the emptiness
And break the silence
That will stop our hearts

And if I wake from dreams
Shall we cry together
For their howling echoes
And restart the night

And why did you say that things shall fall
And fall and fall and fall and fall apart
And why did you say that things shall fall
And fall and fall and fall and fall apart

And shall I wake from dreams
For the glory of nothing
For the cracking of the sun
For the crawling down of lies

And if we fall from dreams
Shall we push them to darkness
And stare into the howling
And clambor into night

And if I fall from dreams
All my prayers are silenced
To Love is to Lose
And to Lose is to Die

And why did you say that things shall fall
And fall and fall and fall and fall apart
And why did you say that things shall fall
And fall and fall and fall and fall apart
And why did you say that things shall fall
And fall and fall and fall and fall apart
And why did you say that things shall fall
And fall and fall and fall and fall apart

And why did you say that things shall fall
Kallisti (Admin)
Madame Guillotine
Username: Admin

Post Number: 884
Registered: 1-1998


Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 3:03 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

"The original Star-Spangled Banner survived the September 1814 bombardment of Baltimore harbor's Fort McHenry by the British Royal Navy. Inspired by this flag, Francis Scott Key wrote our national anthem to the tune of an English drinking song."




“A lady who has a secure seat is never prettier than when in the saddle, and she who cannot make her conquest there, may despair of the power of her charms elsewhere.” - THE MANNERS THAT WIN, 1880

http://www.feeverte.net
Barsnake (Barsnake)
le Duc
Username: Barsnake

Post Number: 168
Registered: 4-2002
Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 1:30 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore dimly seen thro' the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner: O, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash'd out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

O thus be it ever when free-men shall stand
Between their lov'd home and the war's desolation;
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land
Praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserv'd us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: “In God is our trust!”
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Francis Scott Key
and the beat goes on...
String (String)
Paysan
Username: String

Post Number: 15
Registered: 4-2002
Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 1:25 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

While digesting Reader's Digest
In the back of a dirty book store,
A plastic flag, with gum on the back,
Fell out on the floor.
Well, I picked it up and I ran outside
Slapped it on my window shield,
And if I could see old Betsy Ross
I'd tell her how good I feel.

Chorus:
But your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more.
They're already overcrowded
From your dirty little war.
Now Jesus don't like killin'
No matter what the reason's for,
And your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more.

Well, I went to the bank this morning
And the cashier he said to me,
"If you join the Christmas club
We'll give you ten of them flags for free."
Well, I didn't mess around a bit
I took him up on what he said.
And I stuck them stickers all over my car
And one on my wife's forehead.

Repeat Chorus:

Well, I got my window shield so filled
With flags I couldn't see.
So, I ran the car upside a curb
And right into a tree.
By the time they got a doctor down
I was already dead.
And I'll never understand why the man
Standing in the Pearly Gates said...

"But your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more.
We're already overcrowded
From your dirty little war.
Now Jesus don't like killin'
No matter what the reason's for,
And your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more."

--John Prine
Pervert Euchre (Perruche_verte)
Elitist Bastard
Username: Perruche_verte

Post Number: 422
Registered: 12-2000


Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 12:36 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

Hark, the drums are beating, and no longer can I stay
I hear the bugle sounding, and its call I must obey
We're ordered down to Portsmouth, and it's many a weary mile
To join the British Army on the banks of the Nile.

Oh Willie, dearest Willie, don't leave me here to mourn
Don't make me curse and rue the day that ever I was born
For parting with my true love is like parting with my life
So stay at home, dear Willie, and I will be your wife.

Oh Nancy, lovely Nancy, that's a thing that can't be so
For old King George has ordered it, and I by oath must go
The Government has ordered me to join the high command
And fight for King and Country on the streets of a foreign land.

Then I'll cut off my yellow locks and go along with you
I'll dress myself in uniform and see the captain too
We'll march beneath one banner, while fortune does on us smile
And comfort one another on the banks of the Nile

Your waist it is too slender, love, your hands they are too small
I'm afraid you would not answer me when on you I should call
When the cannons crash and rattle, and the bullets they do fly
And the silver trumpet sounds all day to drown the wounded's cry.

My curses on these bloody wars, however they began
For they have robbed poor Ireland of many a gallant man
Our own true loves and comrades, the defenders of our soil
Their bodies sleep in the grassy deep on the banks of the Nile.

But when the fighting's over, if home we safe return
To our true loves and families we've left behind to mourn
We'll gather them around us and we'll share a weary smile
And we'll go no more a-fighting on the banks of the Nile.

(Trad.)

"Drink accomplished what God did not." --Marguerite Duras
Barsnake (Barsnake)
le Duc
Username: Barsnake

Post Number: 166
Registered: 4-2002
Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 9:49 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Yeah, come on all of you, big strong men,
Uncle Sam needs your help again.
He's got himself in a terrible jam
Way down yonder in Vietnam (Iraqistan)
So put down your books and pick up a gun,
We're gonna have a whole lotta fun.

And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam (Afghanistan);
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.

Well, come on generals, let's move fast;
Your big chance has come at last.
Gotta go out and get those reds —
The only good commie is the one who's dead
And you know that peace can only be won
When we've blown 'em all to kingdom come.

And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam (Turkistan);
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
Huh!

Well, come on Wall Street, don't move slow,
Why man, this is war au-go-go.
There's plenty good money to be made
By supplying the Army with the tools of the trade,
Just hope and pray that if they drop the bomb,
They drop it on the Viet Cong (head of Saddam).

And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam (Kurdistan).
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.

Well, come on mothers throughout the land,
Pack your boys off to Vietnam (Iran).
Come on fathers, don't hesitate,
Send 'em off before it's too late.
Be the first one on your block
To have your boy come home in a box.

And it's one, two, three
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam (Palace of Saddam).
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.

Country Joe MacDonald

- Parenthetical additions are mine...
I don't neccessarily share the sentiment in this case, but thought it has historical value.
and the beat goes on...
Jack Collins (_blackjack_)
Absinthe Mafia
Username: _blackjack_

Post Number: 879
Registered: 11-2000


Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 9:38 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Billy ran around with the rare old crew
And he knew an Arsenal from Tottenham blue
We'd be a darn sight better of if we knew
Where Billy's bones are resting now
Billy saw a copper and he hit him in the knee
And he took him down from six foot to five foot three
Then he hit him fair and square in the do-re-mi
That copper won't be having any family

Hey Billy son where are you now
Don't you know that we need you now
With a ra-ta-ta and the old kow-tow
Where are Billy's bones resting now

Billy went away with the peace-keeping force
'Cause he liked a bloody good fight of course
Went away in an old khaki van to the banks of the river Jordan
Billy saw the Arabs and he had 'em on the run
When he got 'em in the range of his sub-machine gun
Then he had the Israelis in his sights, went a ra-ta-ta
And they ran like Shiites

Hey Billy son where are you now
Don't you know that we need you now
With a ra-ta-ta and the old kow-tow
Where are Billy's bones resting now

One night Billy had a rare old time,
Laughing and singing on the Lebanon line
Came back to camp not looking too pretty
Never even got to see the Holy City
Now Billy's out there in the desert sun
And his mother cries when the morning comes
And there's mothers crying all over this world
For their poor dead darling boys and girls

Hey Billy son where are you now
Don't you know that we need you now
With a ra-ta-ta and the old kow-tow
Where are Billy's bones resting now

Have a Billy holiday
Born on a Monday
Married on a Tuesday
Drunk on a Wednesday
Got plugged on a Thursday
Sick on a Friday
Died on a Saturday
Buried on a Sunday

(OK, fine, the Pogues just rule, OK?)
Jack Collins (_blackjack_)
Absinthe Mafia
Username: _blackjack_

Post Number: 878
Registered: 11-2000


Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 9:34 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Let's have a war
So you can go and die!
Let's have a war!
We could all use the money!
Let's have a war!
We need the space!
Let's have a war!
Clean out this place!

It already started in the city!
Suburbia will be just as easy!



Let's have a war!
Jack up the Dow Jones!
Let's have a war!
It can start in New Jersey!
Let's have a war!
Blame it on the middle-class!
Let's have a war!
We're like rats in a cage!

It already started in the city!
Suburbia will be just as easy!


Let's have a war!
Sell the rights to the networks!
Let's have a war!
Let our wallets get fat like last time!
Let's have a war!
Give guns to the queers!
Let's have a war!
The enemy's within!

It already started in the city!
Suburbia will be just as easy!

--Fear
Jack Collins (_blackjack_)
Absinthe Mafia
Username: _blackjack_

Post Number: 877
Registered: 11-2000


Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 9:33 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Can you hear the drums Fernando?
I remember long ago another starry night like this
In the firelight Fernando
You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar
I could hear the distant drums
And sounds of bugle calls were coming from afar

They were closer now Fernando
Every hour every minute seemed to last eternally
I was so afraid Fernando
We were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die
And I'm not ashamed to say
The roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando

Now we're old and grey Fernando
And since many years I haven't seen a rifle in your hand
Can you hear the drums Fernando?
Do you still recall the frightful night we crossed the Rio Grande?
I can see it in your eyes
How proud you were to fight for freedom in this land

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
Yes, if I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando...

--ABBA (Shut up! I like ABBA...)
Pataphysician (Pataphysician)
Elitist Bastard
Username: Pataphysician

Post Number: 501
Registered: 5-2001
Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 9:20 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Tommy gun - he ain't happy less he got one
Tommy gun - he's gonna shoot the place up just for fun
Maybe he wants to die - for the money
Maybe he wants to kill - for his country
Whatever he wants, he's gonna get it!
Tommy gun - you better strip it down for a custom run
Tommy gun - waiting in the airport 'till Kingdom Come
An' we can watch you make it on the nine o'clock news
Standing there in Palestine lighting the fuse
Whatever you want, you're gonna get it
Tommy gun - you'll be dead when your war is won
Tommy gun - but did you have gun down everyone?
I can see it's kill or be killed
A nation of destiny has got to be fulfilled
Whatever you want, you're gonna get it!
Tommy gun - you can be a hero in an age of none
Tommy gun - I'm cutting out your picture from page one
I'm gonna get a jacket just like yours
An' give my false support to your cause
Whatever you want, you're gonna get it!
Boats an' tanks and planes, it's your game
Kings an' Queens an' Generals learn your name
I see all the innocents, the human sacrifice
And if death comes so cheap, then the same goes for live!
Absinthe Queen of Reviews (Head_prosthesis)
Absinthe Mafia
Username: Head_prosthesis

Post Number: 3242
Registered: 1-2001


Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 9:02 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

When you die
You stop being here
When you die
You stop drinking beer
When you die
Some people cry
When you die
You say goodbye






yeah...


-B&B
Pata-P is the DUKE!
Duke a' New York.
HE'S "A" NUMBER ONE!!!



Pataphysician (Pataphysician)
Elitist Bastard
Username: Pataphysician

Post Number: 499
Registered: 5-2001
Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 8:57 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

In your head, in your head, they’re still fighting
With their tanks, and their bombs
And their bombs, and their guns
In your head, in your head, they are dying

In your head, in your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie
What’s in your head, in your head?
Zombie, zombie, zombie

Barsnake (Barsnake)
le Duc
Username: Barsnake

Post Number: 165
Registered: 4-2002
Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 8:42 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Roland was a warrior from the Land of the Midnight Sun
With a Thompson gun for hire, fighting to be done
The deal was made in Denmark on a dark and stormy day
So he set out for Biafra to join the bloody fray

Through sixty-six and seven they fought the Congo war
Fingers on their triggers, knee-deep in gore
For days and nights they battled the Bantu to their knees
They killed to earn their living and to help out the Congolese

Roland the Thompson gunner...
Roland the Thompson gunner...

His comrades fought beside him - Van Owen and the rest
But of all the Thompson gunners Roland was the best
So the CIA decided they wanted Roland dead
That son-of-a-bitch Van Owen blew off Roland's head

Chorus: Harmony:
Roland the headless Thompson gunner (Time, time, time
For another peaceful war
Norway's bravest son But time stands still for
Roland
'Til he evens up the score)

They can still see his headless body stalking through the night
In the muzzle flash of Roland's Thompson gun
In the muzzle flash of Roland's Thompson gun

Roland searched the continent for the man who'd done him in
He found him in Mombassa in a barroom drinking gin
Roland aimed his Thompson gun - he didn't say a word
But he blew Van Owen's body from there to Johannesburg

Roland the headless Thompson gunner...
Roland the headless Thompson gunner...
Roland the headless Thompson gunner...

The eternal Thompson gunner, still wandering through the night
Now it's ten years later but he still keeps up the fight
In Ireland, in Lebanon, in Palestine and Berkeley
Patty Hearst heard the burst of Roland's Thompson gun
And bought it

Warren Zevon



and the beat goes on...
The (Celticgent)
le Vicomte
Username: Celticgent

Post Number: 52
Registered: 10-2002


Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2003 - 7:07 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

One summer evening drunk to hell
I stood there nearly lifeless
An old man in the corner sang
Where the water lilies grow
And on the jukebox Johnny sang
About a thing called love
And it's how are you kid and what's your name
And how would you bloody know?
In blood and death 'neath a screaming sky
I lay down on the ground
And the arms and legs of other men
Were scattered all around
Some cursed, some prayed, some prayed then cursed
Then prayed and bled some more
And the only thing that I could see
Was a pair of brown eyes that was looking at me
But when we got back, labeled parts one to three
There was no pair of brown eyes waiting for me

And a rovin' a rovin' a rovin' I'll go
For a pair of brown eyes

I looked at him he looked at me
All I could do was hate him
While Ray and Philomena sang
Of my elusive dream
I saw the streams, the rolling hills
Where his brown eyes were waiting
And I thought about a pair of brown eyes
That waited once for me
So drunk to hell I left the place
Sometimes crawling sometimes walking
A hungry sound came across the breeze
So I gave the walls a talking
And I heard the sounds of long ago
From the old canal
And the birds were whistling in the trees
Where the wind was gently laughing

And a rovin' a rovin' a rovin' I'll go
For a pair of brown eyes


In the land of the blind the one-eyed man is king.
Kallisti (Admin)
Madame Guillotine
Username: Admin

Post Number: 882
Registered: 1-1998


Posted on Wednesday, March 19, 2003 - 9:24 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

*places hand sincerely over heart and sings*

Now when I was a young man I carried my pack
And lived the free life of the rover
From the Murray's Green Basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915 my country said "Son,
It's time you stopped rambling, there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they mached me away to the war


And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As the ship pulled away from the quay
And amidst all the cheers, flag waving and tears
We sailed off for Gallipoli


And how well I remember that terrible day
How our blood stained the sand and the water
And of how in that hell that they called Souvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
'Johnny Turk' he was ready, he'd primed himself well
He rained us with bullets and he showered us with shell
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia



And the band played Waltzing Matilda
While we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again

And those that were left, well we tried to survive
In that mad world of death, blood and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse-over-head
And when I awoke in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead
Never knew there was worse things than dying



For I'll go no more waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and free
For to hump tent and pegs a man needs both legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me

So, they collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And shipped us back home to Australia
The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane
The proud, wounded heroes of Souvla
And when our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thanked Christ there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity



But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
Then they turned all their faces away

So now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving old dreams and past glories
And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore
They're tired old heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question



But the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Some day no one will march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll go a'waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong
Who'll come a'waltzing Matilda with me?


by Eric Bogle as Performed by The Pogues
“A lady who has a secure seat is never prettier than when in the saddle, and she who cannot make her conquest there, may despair of the power of her charms elsewhere.” - THE MANNERS THAT WIN, 1880

http://www.feeverte.net

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