
While I’m off with Mike today, terrorising WizardWorld attendees, I’ll let you argue about what this song puts me in mind of some days.
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Archive for the “Phil Ochs” Category
While I’m off with Mike today, terrorising WizardWorld attendees, I’ll let you argue about what this song puts me in mind of some days.
Nov
01
2004
A Folk Song is Something You Don’t Hear on the RadioPosted by Dorian in music, Phil Ochs
I mean, let’s look briefly at Draft Dodger Rag‘s closing verse: … One thing you gotta see That someone’s gotta go over there and that someone isn’t me So I wish you well, Sarge, give ‘em Hell Yeah, Kill me a thousand or so And if you ever get a war without blood and gore Well I’ll be the first to go I mean, not only does that aptly summarize what so many of today’s chicken-hawks were doing back then, it also nicely applies to a lot of the arm-chair generals of today. And did I mention that he wasn’t content to let his side bask in the glow of their supposed moral superiority? He once famously defined a liberal as someone who is “ten degrees to the left of center in good times, ten degree to the right if it affects them personally.” Which, again, in Love Me, I’m a Liberal worked then, and still works for those members of the Democratic party who have abandoned the progressive cause, or like Nader only ape the speech of progressive causes to feed their own egos. Once I was young and impulsive I wore every conceivable pin Even went to the socialist meetings Learned all the old union hymns But I’ve grown older and wiser And that’s why I’m turning you in So love me, love me, love me, I’m a liberal Outside of a Small Circle of Friends still stands as one of the most stinging indictments of the casual cruelty Americans are capable of inflicting upon one another. Oh look outside the window, there’s a woman being grabbed They’ve dragged her to the bushes and now she’s being stabbed Maybe we should call the cops and try to stop the pain But Monopoly is so much fun, I’d hate to blow the game And I’m sure it wouldn’t interest anybody Outside of a small circle of friends Which isn’t to say that he was always critical. He wrote what is probably one of the most patriotic songs I’ve ever heard, Power and Glory, which, ironically enough, was once co-opted by Anita Bryant’s anti-gay crusades in Florida. Here is a land full of power and glory Beauty that words cannot recall Oh her power shall rest on the strength of her freedom Her glory shall rest on us all Yet she’s only as rich as the poorest of her poor Only as free as the padlocked prison door Only as strong as our love for this land Only as tall as we stand But the song I keep coming back to the most, the song that I haven’t been able to get out of my head for weeks, is the song that most describes how I feel about my country right now, and the people leading it. And it’s the song I’m going to be humming to myself when I go into the voting booth tomorrow. So here it is, in it’s entirety. The War is Over by Phil Ochs Silent Soldiers on a silver screen Framed in fantasies and dragged in dream Unpaid actors of the mystery The mad director knows that freedom will not make you free And what’s this got to do with me I declare the war is over It’s over, it’s over Drums are drizzling on a grain of sand Fading rhythms of a fading land Prove your courage in the proud parade Trust your leaders where mistakes are almost never made And they’re afraid that I’m afraid I’m afraid the war is over It’s over, it’s over Angry artists painting angry signs Use their vision just to blind the blind Poisoned players of a grizzly game One is guilty and the other gets the point to blame Pardon me if I refrain I declare the war is over It’s over, it’s over So do your duty, boys, and join with pride Serve your country in her suicide Find the flags so you can wave goodbye But just before the end even treason might be worth a try This country is too young to die I declare the war is over It’s over, it’s over One-legged veterans will greet the dawn And they’re whistling marches as they mow the lawn And the gargoyles only sit and grieve The gypsy fortune teller told me that we’d been deceived You only are what you believe I believe the war is over It’s over, it’s over
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