Paroles

Tracks:
1. The Old West
2. Where Zero Meets 15
3. Cool Enough For You
4. Anthem
5. Faking Life
6. Shut Up
7. Arnold & Willis & Mr. Dumond
8. I Feel Lucky
9. Milestone
10. Beautiful America
11. Combat Chuck
12. Amalgamate
13. Everywhere I Go
14. A Flowery Song
15. Third World Think Tank

Some cowboys were a ridin', ridin' on the range;
The grass was over grazed there, and spotted like
some mange; The buffalo were dead there,
the trees they all were through, and if they saw some
Injuns, why they would kill them too.

West or bust, in God we trust,
"Let's rape, let's kill, let's steal"
We can almost justify, anything we feel.
I'm climbing up that ladder, more brownie points for
me. I'll work my way to Jesus, just you wait and see.

Said one cowboy to another,
"I think it would be nice, if we could
take these Injuns and convert them all to Christ.
See, they are all disgusting, and bringing me great
pain, and if they don't believe me,
we'll put a bullet in their brains!"

I am always shoutin', when I go outside,
how people should repent now, or they're going to die.
My motives are all selfish, I'm a cannon brimmed with powder.
If people don't believe me, I just beat them and yell louder.

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 the zero meets the 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 keep 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.

What could this be, too much MTV?
Chalk another fad up for its fall into infamy.
What’s in a standard if it changes all the time?
You’re still having trouble in defining your own kind.
Need I remind you, we all knew you before,
you threw the rocks at the stage from your glass house on the floor?
Now I think you’re punk, just because it’s in.
You found a foul mouth and a couple safety pins.

Got a peaceful feeling, I don’t want to fight no more.
Got a peaceful feeling, I don’t care if we’re punk, or SKA, or hardcore,
enough for you, it’s sad but true, you can call us names till your
face turns blue. Our assurance comes from God, it’s nothing
new, we’ll never care ‘cause we’re never cool enough for you.

That smug look on your face, your nose up in the air, your
patches say you’re open-minded, but still you couldn’t bear, some
punk thrown in with ska. You said it wouldn’t work. Well you
can take your Vespa home ‘cause ska made you a jerk. The
purist turns a deaf ear. He’s such an intellect,
Does he think his censorship is gaining our respect?
The raising of a fist, like a trigger of a gun.
Stop and see we’re all alike, and we can dance as one.

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.

Through this mirrored image feeling
Was my head so oddly reeling
Not aware of floor or ceiling
Kneeling and crying out
All the past I'd spent denying
Watching others lose in trying
The time I wasted spent in crying
Where could truth be found?

Joy could not be found in money
Don't put your faith in somebody
Not in attempts to be funny
Life seems incomplete
Why doubt the life He offers
When all the world is not enough?
Who knows if we've got time
We cannot wait 'till it's too late

Searching for someone else to blame
Hoping I won't go insane
Selfish pride my only gain
Faking sanity
The charade said I was fine
Knowing riches would be mine
I chose to face the cross the sign
I gave my future up

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.
Drumondd, 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.
Drumondd'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. Drumondd, a man of the
means, loves two black brothers,
they've only got the blue jeans.

The air is so clear, the sky is so
blue, I know what you mean, I
feel lucky too. I found a dollar,
it's like a dream. I love this
place, my Slurpee is so Green.

So much easier to think that we did
this all ourselves, so much easier
to let our hearts do what they've
felt. To throw our chips up in the
air, and let the praise fall where
it may. I feel, I feel lucky.

It's a well know fact, our hearts
are black. A maze full of mice, a
game of cosmic, dice, a never-
ending quiz, is all you think this
is. A gaping black hole, all the
glory that you stole.
(There's no such thing as luck.)

If I had a nickel for every single time I've tried to classify the
populace around me with a word, or a catchy phrase, I could
quit my job for good and play Nintendo until my fingers ached.

Am I an idiot, too lazy to think twice?
I point the finger, but I can't take my own advice.
I put a name on something and ever since,
I've made an art of building my counterfeit intelligence.

Seemingly to me, I am straightening a world of cluttered
thoughts and a debris inside my head, but I think instead of
prejudiced and I give people names to make me feel safe.

How does it feel what does it take to make me understand?
If I could only walk a mile in the shoes of another man.
If I could look out through his eyes and know what
it means to bleed the same red blood that I do.

What is economic status, and tell me what is race?
Who decides to classify taxonomy of grace?
If one man gets less that another is it true,
that he is all that different, that he is less than you?

The man on the television said I need to drink this, and sleep with
that, in order to be cool. And you know that I would do almost
anything, to be like that guy on TV. I know that if I had just the
right outfit and a hairstyle that could be me. Don't you know
you can't be cool if you dress dumb, I need to have that 'cause
everybody's got one. I think I'll start smoking, that would make
me intellectual, that's what I've always wanted to be. I need to
lift weights, that would make me more sexual,
and that would be good for me.

In America it's wonderful, all you have to do is fake it.
Own anything you want, all you have to do is take it.
Live for today, don't think about tomorrow,
have a good time in America-Gomorrah.

What are you looking at, you better not make me mad. I'll drive
by your house and shoot your dog, and mom, and dad. I don't
need you or the Bible or anything to tell me what is the law. With a
good enough lawyer I can do anything in Beautiful America.

I want to be in America, Okay for me in America,
everything's free in America, for a small fee in America.

A real life superhero. He's got the Holy Ghost. He's either
praising Jesus, or he's making toast. Ain't got no superpowers,
ain't got no giant brain, but he would try and help you, if he
heard you call his name. There's some kids there in some trouble,
need a Pepsi on the double. then he shouts, not so quiet,
"Would you like regular or diet?"
Found a campsite for some kids, by the stage is what he did.
People ask why he's so nice, he wants to be like Jesus Christ.

Whenever you're in trouble, whenever you're in need,
Combat Chuck will help you, he nearly runs with speed. he's on
the ball to save the masses, got some thick old horn-rimmed
glasses. his head is bald, he shaved it shiny. Kicks the devil
in his hiney. People ask why he's so nice, he wants to be like
Jesus Christ.

You’ve got a cause now, I heard
you braggin’. Always the fastest
One on the bandwagon. So sit
Down and I’ll tell you, what I’m
Feeling, what I am feeling. For a
Lack of better words you are
Stealing, you are stealing, all of
my joy away from me. What
ever happened to our unity?

We cut ourselves, our own limbs
we've severed. It's time for us to
pull together and stand, as one.
All eyes are turning towards the
Son. Drop your fists now, what
you resent. Let's not forget who
we represent. And fall to our
knees in unity.

Another day now, another
doctrine, another monkey wrench
in the system. Some folks
kneelin', some just listen, some
fallin' out of the pews from
twistin'. I don't care kinds, how
you do it. United we'll stand and
we'll pull through it. All were
dead once. All enslaved. Now
pull together 'cause we've all
been saved.

The only Jesus this world's gonna
see, is the Jesus in you and me.
So pick your cross up, stop your
swingin'. Stop and look at the
stink you're bringin' to this body
with your fighting, you bust more
more knuckles that the wrongs
your righting. What's important,
is where we relate, it's the
meaning of the word Amalgamate.

I was wasting time
Oh so sure to find somebody who'll
Never go
How could I know
None I'd found was true
None could be but you
The only one love divine
My heart, my mind are yours

Everywhere I go I see your face through the crowd
Everywhere I go I hear your voice clear and loud
Everywhere I go you are the light that I seek
Everywhere I go you have found me

Where could my heart go
Where you wouldn't be
Where you wouldn't know to find me?
Far, far from here
Still you are near
Still you are near to me
And I see

I have seen you in the morning
In the guiding light you hold me
Closer than the air around me
You surround me always

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.

I walked into the room, and she was right
there waiting. Leaning up against the bar,
well she was perpertraitin'. Slick as snot her
spandex, and blacker than some coal, she
set her gaze upon my bootie, with disco in
her soul. So much for indecision, so quick
did she decide, the temptress with her doors
open inviting me inside. "I want to take you
home with me", said the sparkle in her eye.
"I would like to honey, but I'm about to die."

I have got a time bomb, I strapped it to my
chest. When it blows I'm out of here, you can
have what's left.

The room got kind of quiet, and you could smell
the fear. I only heard the jukebox play "A Tear
is in My Beer". "So what's the verdict Mister?
When's it gonna blow?" I just winked at her and
said, "Darlin' I don't know."
Time-bomb tickin' in the room, everybody
goes someday, blows so quick you better be,
somewhere where it's safe. Thin skinned
thread-bare thinkin', now you're gonna die,
don't try to rock the jukebox, just kiss this
world good-bye.

What's the deal, don't you feel, alone now in the silence?
Pushing up the daisies now, there's better ways for you
to diet. Seekin after sucker wealth, suckers feel what
suckers dealt, All your life you stuffed your face, now
you're dead I rest my case. Got a story here
to tell, so you better listen well. some old lady
in a church, got a nickel in her purse. You
were rich, she was poor. You dropped some
fifties on the floor. She dropped her nickel
with a clank, she was thinkin' Third World
Think Tank.

The Karaoke master, the drunkard, and the
jerk, ditch this sorry world and all its worth.
Keep your candle burning, waiting for the
time, ready to explode, the bomb is primed.