One Girl Army
Here lies the old myth, breaking the mould with, truth to take away the trickery. Twenty centuries of progress, suffer slowly as we regress, losing headway to ourselves. Behold the covers, the sisters, the mothers, the daughters, and spouses, on the magazines. Truth has been abused. How could she fill those shoes? Propaganda meant to fuel their schemes. She is strong but never silent, sure of where her truth/strength comes from., one day, one girl army will overcome. Treading the current, issues at hand, Shifting, we sway, from justice and then back again. What we once broke, He has made right, lifting her up, giving birth to Jesus Christ
Welcome to Canada, it's the Maple Leaf State. Canada, oh Canada it's great! The people are nice and they speak French too. If you don't like it, man, you sniff glue. The Great White North, their kilts are plaid, Hosers take off, it's not half bad. I want to be where yaks can run free, Where Royal Mounties can arrest me. Let's go to Canada, let's leave today, Canada, oh, Canada, I Sil Vous Plait. They've got trees, and mooses, and sled dogs, Lots of lumber, and lumberjacks, and logs! We all think it's kind of a drag, That you have to go there to get milk in a bag. They say "eh?" instead of "what?" or "duh?" That's the mighty power of Canada. I want to be where lemmings run into the sea, Where the marmosets can attack me. Let's go to Canada, let's leave today, Canada, oh, Canada, I Sil Vous Plait. Please, please, explain to me, How this all has come to be, We forgot to mention something here. Did we say that William Shatner is a native citizen? And Slurpees made from venison, That's deer. Let's go to Canada, let's leave today, Canada, oh, Canada, I Sil Vous Plait
A Flowery Song
Beautiful day, wonderful feeling, this reason to sing, psalms meaning songs singing praises all day long. Joy fills the weak, joy makes us strong. Filled 'till we burst, songs of praise to the God of the Universe. Despite our selfish selves, despite all loss of hope, despite our lack of faith, despite our stony hearts, despite the waning moon, despite the ebbing tide of how we think this world should be. Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise Him all creatures here below, praise Him above ye heavenly host, praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Gray rainy day, down in the mud for us. Don't feel I can sing, songs to the God in control of the seasons. But what's good and bad, flow from the hands, of the God with the perfect plan. Filling us with joy, all of this will glorify
Handbook for the Sellout
You found a way to draw a line, between the world and you. Faking your identity it's true. Did you think the word "alternative", was only meant for the likes of you? Do you think that they're too cool now? Being popular is lame. You're the one who made them popular, all their songs are still the same. You found them first, it made you stand apart, you know? But then everyone jumped on the same bandwagon, making you an average Joe, A lemming for the mediocre, you were just a plain old joker status quo. Blame it on the band now. If you pick them do they bleed? What's the point in playing what they want, if you won't let them succeed? Do you remember where we all came from? Do you remember what it's all about? When you made a point to be objective, before you started writing Handbook for the Sellout? You sunk your worth in being different, just to be like your own kind. You traded in objectiveness, for the underground you follow blind.
All That is Good
Where does the misunderstanding come from, demanding that we be outstanding and then some? Perfection never was a requirement although some might say we desired it. So then for times when things get old I might get cynical I see that I don't see. Do they see You when they see me? In honesty there's room for improvement Thoughts may change, the truth be told, A closed mind will leave you empty Use your mind to use your soul. Alert the press, their dogmas are a mess, Opinions shift, a broken sift, an empty hand, And billboards ask, *where do they stand.* Do all streams lead to one sea? Logically there's room for all questions Though the answers aren't all known, Objectivities the myth of plenty, Who doubt His truth within their soul
In a field of yellow flowers, underneath the sun, bluest eyes that spark with lightning, boy with shoes undone. He is young, so full of hope, reveling in tiny dreams, filling up, his arms with flowers, right for giving any queen. Running to her beaming bright, while cradling his prize. A flickering of yellow light, within his mother*s eyes. She holds them to her heart, keeping them where they*ll be safe, clasped within her very marrow, dandelions in a vase. She sees love, where anyone else would see weeds. all hope is found. Here is everything he needs. Fathomless your endless mercy, weight I could not lift. Where do I fit in this puzzle, what good are these gifts? Not a martyr, or a saint, scarcely can I struggle through. All that I have ever wanted, was to give my best to you. Lord, search my heart, create in me something clean. Dandelions you see flowers in these weeds. Gently lifting hands to heaven, softened by the sweetest hush, a Father sings over his children, loving them so very much. More than words could warrant, deeper than the darkest blue, more than sacrifice could merit, Lord, I give my heart to you
Coke bottle glasses, I'm sitting in the corner with my finger up my nose, And my shoelaces untied again, Another day of school with no friends. A social outcast, Two grades ahead in math, with my highwater pants, Giving meaning to pencil-necked-geek, A dork or so to speak, tongue-in-cheek. They're all sucker-punching me, Get in line for a wedgie. All I want and all I need, Is someone who believes in me. A song sung for underdogs, for all the left out. A flag flying for losers, somewhere in the Heavens. The God of ever-lasting comfort, believed in me, Loved me when I was faithless, he still died for me. Junior High schooler With pencils in my pockets, and my Trapper Keeper busted, Spilling papers and books on the floor, Not wanting seventh grade anymore. Another class-clown, Acting like a goof to be accepted by my peers, Giving meaning to pencil-necked-geek, a dork or so to speak, tongue in cheek. They're all sucker-punching me, Get in line for a wedgie. All I want and all I need, Is someone who believes in me. A song sung for underdogs, for all the left out. A flag flying for losers, somewhere in the Heavens. The God of ever-lasting comfort, believed in me, Loved me when I was faithless, he still died for-- A song sung for underdogs, for all the left out. A flag flying for losers, somewhere in the Heavens. The God of ever-lasting comfort, believed in me, Loved me when I was faithless, he still died for me.
It's not unusual
Its not unusual to be loved by anyone, its not unusual to have fun with anyone, when I see you hangin' out with anyone, it's not unusual to see me cry, I wanna die. It's not unusual to go out for anytime, but when I see you hangin' about it's such a crime,?????? By anyone, its not unusual it happens everyday, no matter what you say, you'll find it happens all the time, love will never do what you want it to, why cant this crazy love be mine?
Its not unusual to be mad with anyone, its not unusual to be sad with anyone, you should never feel like changing your mind?? It's not unusual to find that I'm in love with you.
A nation stands with heart in hand To sing their anthem proudly Voices raised to sing their praise Of their hollow country All this talk of freedom And some talk of liberty From your plastic podium You try and convince me I can't fall anymore For some silver-tongued song Your freedom isn't free So let me say what freedom means to I can's see red, white, and blue waving in the air I don't hear the bombs bursting and I don't even care I'm sorry for my lack of faith I'm not the greatest patriot If this is all their is to freedom I don't want it I can't fall anymore For some silver-tongued song Your freedom isn't free So let me say what freedom means to Pushing us a drug that you call freedom and democracy Promise us that selfishness is the means for happiness I burned that bridge so long ago that I can hardly see Anything but solace in what freedom means to me I can't fall anymore For some silver-tongued song Freedom isn't free So let me say what freedom means to It cannot mean to serve ourselves That doesn't mean a thing It doesn't mean to give the license To seek ourselves in anything That would be slavery to ourselves it isn't free Jesus Christ, the only thing that freedom means to me.
Amy's going back to school today Elation, jubilation screams from her face Did the halls smell of gunpowder still What made the human heart dark enough to kill? A new hope Where is your freedom A new hope cast off your burdens A darker world was behind this one Cryptic it hides beneath perception We all saw it on that day Stunned we stood stuttering What did the news say A new hope Where is your freedom A new hope Here is your freedom Peace Fills us Amyıs going back to school today
Elation, jubilation screams from her face
Did the halls smell of gunpowder still
What made the human heart dark enough to kill?
A new hope Where is your freedom A new hope cast off your burdens A darker world was behind this one Cryptic it hides beneath perception We all saw it on that day Stunned we stood stuttering What did the news say A new hope Where is your freedom A new hope Here is your freedom Peace Fills us By hope we steer Our dark hearts salvage We live without fear.
Arnold and Willis and Mr. Drummond
Straight from the ghetto streets of Harlem, came two brothers Willis and Arnold, black goldfish swims in the bowl, he's three feet high, four with the afro. Stealing cookies from the jar, droppin' water balloons on cars. I hope Mrs.. Garret won't see, just play sick for Mohammed Ali. the Gooch is coming, to steal milk money. Arnold, and Willis, and Mr. Drummond, and don't forget Kimberly. They just cancelled Dukes of Hazard, Different Strokes is all I want to see. Way up high in the penthouse apartment, making us laugh its Willis and Arnold. Mr. Drummond's got the dough, they get to ride in a limo Different Strokes, its almost time. We just watch 'cause Kimberly's fine. Half hour long it never fills us, when he says, "What you talkin' 'bout Willis?". Write the cable company, different strokes all the time. Mr. Drummond, a man of the means, loves two black brothers, they've only got the blue jeans.
I don't know how this ever happened, I didn't think it ever could, I'm the author of sappy love songs,Trading in my bachelorhood. Something snapped deep inside me, Something that somebody said, I felt the brush of angels wings then, Your voice echoed in my head.
Ugly Day the sun is shining, Every cloud's got a silver lining.
Ugly day the skies are blue, Now every day is ugly without you.
You are the one pure thing, That I've always prayed for. Scales are falling from my eyes, I must have been so blind before. I would lie down on the street, To keep the dust off of your feet, I would kneel each time I kissed you, Anything Christie I miss you.
Today was an ugly one, Just like all the others. All the flowers and the birds, Making me feel smothered. I would lie down on the street, To keep the dust off your feet, I would kneel each time I kissed you, Anything Christie I miss you
Bacon bits and jalapenos on my polish hot dog. Half a pound of potato chips, and a beef jerky log. I press my face to the window, a wrapper sticks to my shirt. Eight people in a stinky van, a couple more couldn't hurt. Eat some food off the floor. I've developed a taste for bread mold. Ride around in a van, don't take a shower for six weeks and... We've been given superpowers, ask us for an autograph. We sing, we dance we'll make you laugh, don't you want to be like us? We've been given superpowers, ask about our rock and roll, our hair , our clothes, hobbies, and pets. Does he have a girlfriend yet? Everyone in the band can't stand me, just because I fell off the stage, and kind of by accident, I broke the promoters legs. Sometimes we have a deadline for writing our songs. Five minutes left to write this one la,la,la,la,la,la,la. Sleep in a sleeping bag. Every floor looks the same as last night. You wake up, you drive, you play a show, and then you sleep again. I sometimes feel like I'm holden caulfield, sometimes Jack Keroac. I wanted to be famous, now I want to take it back. Don't want to rock the mic, don't want to meet the pope, I just want to share with you, how we got this peace and hope. I once wanted to be famous, now I want to take it back.
Where the Zero Meets the Fifteen
My car broke down in Arizona, have to ride the bus again, at ten-o-clock on Tuesday night, with thirteen cents and a broken pen. I put my backpack on the bench, tell two people I don't smoke, see the cop across the street, he thinks that I am selling dope, I could have walked another block, to get away from the scene. Why does it always come to this, where zero meets fifteen? And so I gave my thirteen cents, to the man who peed his pants. He passes out and falls on me, I watch my change fall from his hand. I see the lady next to me, holds her baby black blue. The junkie gutter-punks keeps asking, where I got my new tattoo. What does it matter anyway, thirteen cents or all I own? How can I ever save the world, on cup-o-soup and student loans? I want to try and save the world, but it never goes that way. God I don't know what to do, down at Colfax and Broadway. Now the man with no shoes on, says I don't know how to play. He says I fumble all the time. He thinks that I am John Elway. I put my face down in my hands, water wells inside my eyes. What do I have to give them? Does it matter if I try? I can't stand to see you suffer, I try to intellectualize, a formula to end you pain, it doesn't work, God knows I've tried. Sometimes my cup is overfilled. Sometimes I'm too afraid that I'm going to spill.
Blue Comb '78
Summer of 1978, My sister and I in the back seat just wait. We pass the time by making lines in the seat that we can't cross, A thin line like dental floss. She threw my new blue comb out the window, somewhere on I-70. Dad said, "I'm sorry, but we can't go back," We're never going back to get it. It was the first comb I ever had. Got it just that morning from my mom and my dad. Light blue in color, I could never find another, comb like that, big and fat... So tell me, have you seen my comb? Last time I saw it, it was in her hands, And then it was bouncing down the road. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't brown, But now it might be from lying on the ground. So tell me, have you seen my comb? Driving down the road in September, I was only five but I still remember, Where the highway turns at the bottom of the hill, My parents both up front 'cause they loved each other still. Maybe just a comb made of plastic, Or an action of a sibling lacking couth, But something that was thrown out that window, Was the last great symbol of my youth. Have you seen my comb? Last time I saw it, it was in her hands, And then it was bouncing down the road. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't brown, But now it might be from lying on the ground. So tell me, have you seen my comb?
Every New Day
When I was young, the smallest trick of light, Could catch my eye, Then life was new and every new day, I thought that I could fly. I believed in what I hoped for, And I hoped for things unseen, I had wings and dreams could soar, I just don't feel like flying anymore. When the stars threw down their spears, Watered Heaven with their tears, Before words were spoken, Before eternity. Dear Father, I need you, Your strength my heart to mend. I want to fly higher, Every new day again. When I was small, the furthest I could reach, reach, was not so high, then, I thought the world was so much smaller, feeling I, could fly. Through distant deeps and skies, behind infinity, below the face of Heaven, he stoops to create me. Man versus himself. Man versus machine. Man versus the world. mankind versus me. The struggles go on, the wisdom I lack, the burdens keep piling up on my back. So hard to breathe, to take the next step. The mountains is high, I wait in the depths. Yearning for grace, and hoping for peace. Dear God... increase. Healing hands of God have mercy on our unclean souls once again. Jesus Christ, light of the world burning bright within our hearts forever. Freedom means love without condition, a beginning or an end. Here's my heart, let it be forever Your's, only you can make every new day seem so new.
intro, one girl army, oh canada, a flowery song, handbook for the sellout, recieve him, all that is good, dandelions, suckerpunch, it's not unusual, anthem, new hope, arnold, will and mr. drummond, ugly day, superpowers, wher zero meets fifteen, blue comb '78, every new day