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+--- Thread: Deep Politics soundtrack (/thread-10889.html)
Deep Politics soundtrack - Lauren Johnson - 01-07-2013
Gather round people let me tell you're a story
An eight year long story of power and pride
British Lord Vestey and Vincent Lingiarri
Were opposite men on opposite sides
Vestey was fat with money and muscle
Beef was his business, broad was his door
Vincent was lean and spoke very little
He had no bank balance, hard dirt was his floor
From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow
Gurindji were working for nothing but rations
Where once they had gathered the wealth of the land
Daily the pressure got tighter and tighter
Gurindju decided they must make a stand
They picked up their swags and started off walking
At Wattie Creek they sat themselves down
Now it don't sound like much but it sure got tongues talking
Back at the homestead and then in the town
From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow
Vestey man said I'll double your wages
Seven quid a week you'll have in your hand
Vincent said uhuh we're not talking about wages
We're sitting right here till we get our land
Vestey man roared and Vestey man thundered
You don't stand the chance of a cinder in snow
Vince said if we fall others are rising
From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow
Then Vincent Lingiarri boarded an aeroplane
Landed in Sydney, big city of lights
And daily he went round softly speaking his story
To all kinds of men from all walks of life
And Vincent sat down with big politicians
This affair they told him is a matter of state
Let us sort it out, your people are hungry
Vincent said no thanks, we know how to wait
From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow
Then Vincent Lingiarri returned in an aeroplane
Back to his country once more to sit down
And he told his people let the stars keep on turning
We have friends in the south, in the cities and towns
Eight years went by, eight long years of waiting
Till one day a tall stranger appeared in the land
And he came with lawyers and he came with great ceremony
And through Vincent's fingers poured a handful of sand
From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow
That was the story of Vincent Lingairri
But this is the story of something much more
How power and privilege can not move a people
Who know where they stand and stand in the law
From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow
From little things big things grow
Deep Politics soundtrack - Magda Hassan - 01-07-2013
We're taught that after the war
The Nazis vanished without a trace
But battalions of fascists
Still dream of a master race
The history books
They tell of their defeat in 45
Why did they all come out of the woodwork
On the day the Nazi died
They say the prisoner of Spandau
Was a symbol of defeat
Whilst Hess remained imprisoned
Then the fascists they were beat
So the promise of an Aryan world
Would never materialize
So why did they all come out of the woodwork
On the day the Nazi died
The world is ridden by maggots
The maggots are getting fat
They're making a tasty meal
Of all the bosses and bureaucrats
They're taking over the board rooms
And they're fat and full of pride
And they all came out of the woodwork
On the day the Nazi died
So if you meet with these historiansI'll tell you what to say
Tell them that the Nazis
Never really went away
They're out there burning houses down
And they're peddling racist lies
And we'll never rest again
Until every Nazi dies
Deep Politics soundtrack - Charles Drago - 01-07-2013
Deep Politics soundtrack - Magda Hassan - 01-07-2013
I'm gonna tell you fascists
You may be surprised
The people in this world
Are getting organized
You're bound to lose
You fascists bound to lose
Race hatred cannot stop us
This one thing we know
Your poll tax and Jim Crow
And greed has got to go
You're bound to lose
You fascists bound to lose.
All of you fascists bound to lose:
I said, all of you fascists bound to lose:
Yes sir, all of you fascists bound to lose:
You're bound to lose! You fascists:
Bound to lose!
People of every color
Marching side to side
Marching cross these fields
Where a million fascists dies
You're bound to lose
You fascists bound to lose!
I'm going into this battle
And take my union gun
We'll end this world of slavery
Before this battle's won
You're bound to lose
You fascists bound to lose!
Deep Politics soundtrack - Magda Hassan - 01-07-2013
The song takes its name from a Republican poster of the time, displaying a photograph of a young child killed by the Nationalists under a sky of bombers with the stark warning "If you tolerate this, your children will be next" written at the bottom.
The future teaches you to be alone
The present to be afraid and cold
So if I can shoot rabbits
Then I can shoot fascists
Bullets for your brain today
But we'll forget it all again
Monuments put from pen to paper
Turns me into a gutless wonder
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
Will be next
Will be next
Will be next
Gravity keeps my head down
Or is it maybe shame
At being so young and being so vain
Holes in your head today
But I'm a pacifist
I've walked La Ramblas
But not with real intent
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
Will be next
Will be next
Will be next
Will be next
And on the street tonight an old man plays
With newspaper cuttings of his glory days
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
And if you tolerate this
Then your children will be next
Will be next
Will be next
Will be next
Deep Politics soundtrack - Magda Hassan - 01-07-2013
You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop 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 XeroxIn 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon blowing a bugle and leading a charge by JohnMitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eathog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by the Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star NatalieWoods 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 poundsthinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.
There will be no pictures of you and Willie May pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32 or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting downbrothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting downbrothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young beingrun out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of RoyWilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.
Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and women 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'clocknews and no pictures of hairy armed womenliberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, TomJones, 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 white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in yourbedroom, 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 may 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, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop 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 XeroxIn 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon blowing a bugle and leading a charge by JohnMitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eathog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by the Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star NatalieWoods 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 poundsthinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.
There will be no pictures of you and Willie May pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32 or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting downbrothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting downbrothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young beingrun out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of RoyWilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.
Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and women 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'clocknews and no pictures of hairy armed womenliberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, TomJones, 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 white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in yourbedroom, 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 may 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, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.
Deep Politics soundtrack - Tracy Riddle - 01-07-2013
"Stop the World" - The Clash
The panorama of the city is wrong
In fact the city seems to be gone
Burning rubber burning smoke in my eyes
There's a flat burning junkheap for twenty square miles
They took it into the nuclear mine
Judging by this, they left nothing behind
Down in the bunkers in the crust of the earth
Now crouch the wealthy and the noble of birth
If I could a ride a train around the city
That holds this as our fate
I'd hide from electro-circuit central
To the shock inducer gate
Not forgetting the by-pass
Across the Washington hooks
Through the phones and desks and screens
Of the Kremlin's crook of crooks
There's some panel in a circuit board
A destination of the override
Scanning the wild wind
Blowing through the Berlin corridor
Spotlit in a palace, shielded from dust
Malfunction or not, the failsafe is the crux
So far away from us, shaking with the mystery tears
One lonely night in Ladbroke Grove
Far away in the deserts of Omaha
They got it nailed down-Swiss tight
The bank notes of Europe, the emperors and kings
Curl in the autumn as the burning of leaves
And I've cleaned my black guitar
"The Leader" - The Clash
Atom secrets, secret leaflet
Have the boys found the leak yet?
The molehill sets the wheel in motion
His downfall picks up locomotion
The people must have something good to read on a Sunday
The leader's wife takes a government car
In the dark to meet her minister
But the leader never leaves his door ajar
As he swings his whip from the Boer War
He wore a leather mask for his dinner guests
Totally nude and with deep respect
Proposed a toast to the votes he gets
The feeling of power and the thought of sex!
Now the girl let the fat man touch her
Vodka fumes and the feel of a vulture
The driver waited in the embassy car
The fat man's trap was set for capture
So the girl let the thin man touch her
Mixing questions, drunken laughter
The ministry car was waiting there
A minister knows his own affair
The people must have something good to read on a Sunday
Deep Politics soundtrack - Jan Klimkowski - 01-07-2013
Lauryn Hill and Ziggy Marley sing Redemption Song.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look?
Lyrics on the screen, apart from Lauryn's rap....
Deep Politics soundtrack - Magda Hassan - 13-07-2013
Jan Klimkowski Wrote:Lauryn Hill and Ziggy Marley sing Redemption Song.Yes!
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look?
and...
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Deep Politics soundtrack - Keith Millea - 13-07-2013
Here comes the helicopter -- second time today
Everybody scatters and hopes it goes away
How many kids they've murdered only God can say
If I had a rocket launcher...I'd make somebody pay
I don't believe in guarded borders and I don't believe in hate
I don't believe in generals or their stinking torture states
And when I talk with the survivors of things too sickening to relate
If I had a rocket launcher...I would retaliate
On the Rio Lacantun, one hundred thousand wait
To fall down from starvation -- or some less humane fate
Cry for guatemala, with a corpse in every gate
If I had a rocket launcher...I would not hesitate
I want to raise every voice -- at least I've got to try
Every time I think about it water rises to my eyes.
Situation desperate, echoes of the victims cry
If I had a rocket launcher...Some son of a bitch would die