09-01-2004, 02:20 PM
I don't want to beat a dead horse but the coverage of the Republican convention was raising the hair on the back of my neck, with their "compassion" theme and all...so I felt inspired to write this little song. Let me know what you think...even if you think it's silly or cliche.
I have never recorded music into my computer...what's the best way to do it? I don't even have a tape player to record to, and I wasn't going to waste money on one this late in the game...I want to record directly into my computer. Is there one type of microphone that is best?
Anyway...let this be a lesson to the rest of ya...don't piss me off or so help me God, I'll write a song about you! :lol:
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Two More Months
A doctor can’t operate unless qualified
The cops got their rules and orders to follow
They shoot a black man and the country cries foul
They shoot a protestor and it’s so hard to swallow
But a rich oil yuppie got the power to kill
If they’re wearing a turban they’re all fair game
Muhammad is a profanity in a nation of fear
A long black beard is more or less the same
Junior don’t know his right hand from left
If it ain’t what he wants to hear, he don’t want to know
Daddy gave him the keys to the car
And he done wrapped it ’round a telephone pole
Speaking in soundbites comes easy to simple minds
“Come out, come out, or we’ll blow your house down!”
Little piggy sat tight with a gun behind the door
More afraid of fifty stars than the devil he knows in his town
“We got our tanks, we got our missiles
The fearsome Patriots, the dreaded Stingers
Let us in our we’ll put up our dukes!”
And he put up his middle finger
It’s so easy to talk about dots on a map
Ten thousand miles from the humanity your soldiers face
So easy to talk about them being greeted with open arms
But you can pull strings so your kids are never put in their place
Is that the prerogative of the Land Of The Free?
To stamp our brand of freedom on the rest of the globe?
To them it means freedom from the American Empire
But freedom’s been bushwhacked by wolves in sheep’s clothes
They say “I can’t be a killer; look at my daughters
I’m a Christian family man.”
Tell that to the families screaming to Allah
Burying their children in the bloodstained sand
The journalists don’t much care for right or wrong
Life’s easier when you don’t bite the hand that feeds you
They sell their soul for a job on the front lines
Embedded with, in bed with, at the expense of the Truth.
The people can’t see it and the media keep ‘em blind
Sayin’ don’t worry about what the big men have the power to do
How is that not so much more of a crime
Than gettin’ blowjobs in the Oval’s back room?
So now everyone with a mic’s foaming at the mouth
All these backseat drivers with something to say
Hell, even them American Idols
Are wading into the political fray
So who’s a young voter to believe?
We follow and trust our leaders from our inception
Our lives are in their hands, but now
Our country is wrapped up in their deceptions
Gotta give the keys to the car to a sober driver,
The keys to the office to one of sober second thought
Two more months! Two more months!
Til these past four years can be locked away and forgot.
I have never recorded music into my computer...what's the best way to do it? I don't even have a tape player to record to, and I wasn't going to waste money on one this late in the game...I want to record directly into my computer. Is there one type of microphone that is best?
Anyway...let this be a lesson to the rest of ya...don't piss me off or so help me God, I'll write a song about you! :lol:
-
Two More Months
A doctor can’t operate unless qualified
The cops got their rules and orders to follow
They shoot a black man and the country cries foul
They shoot a protestor and it’s so hard to swallow
But a rich oil yuppie got the power to kill
If they’re wearing a turban they’re all fair game
Muhammad is a profanity in a nation of fear
A long black beard is more or less the same
Junior don’t know his right hand from left
If it ain’t what he wants to hear, he don’t want to know
Daddy gave him the keys to the car
And he done wrapped it ’round a telephone pole
Speaking in soundbites comes easy to simple minds
“Come out, come out, or we’ll blow your house down!”
Little piggy sat tight with a gun behind the door
More afraid of fifty stars than the devil he knows in his town
“We got our tanks, we got our missiles
The fearsome Patriots, the dreaded Stingers
Let us in our we’ll put up our dukes!”
And he put up his middle finger
It’s so easy to talk about dots on a map
Ten thousand miles from the humanity your soldiers face
So easy to talk about them being greeted with open arms
But you can pull strings so your kids are never put in their place
Is that the prerogative of the Land Of The Free?
To stamp our brand of freedom on the rest of the globe?
To them it means freedom from the American Empire
But freedom’s been bushwhacked by wolves in sheep’s clothes
They say “I can’t be a killer; look at my daughters
I’m a Christian family man.”
Tell that to the families screaming to Allah
Burying their children in the bloodstained sand
The journalists don’t much care for right or wrong
Life’s easier when you don’t bite the hand that feeds you
They sell their soul for a job on the front lines
Embedded with, in bed with, at the expense of the Truth.
The people can’t see it and the media keep ‘em blind
Sayin’ don’t worry about what the big men have the power to do
How is that not so much more of a crime
Than gettin’ blowjobs in the Oval’s back room?
So now everyone with a mic’s foaming at the mouth
All these backseat drivers with something to say
Hell, even them American Idols
Are wading into the political fray
So who’s a young voter to believe?
We follow and trust our leaders from our inception
Our lives are in their hands, but now
Our country is wrapped up in their deceptions
Gotta give the keys to the car to a sober driver,
The keys to the office to one of sober second thought
Two more months! Two more months!
Til these past four years can be locked away and forgot.


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