take your dissilusionment to work day

Ever so often, I try to figure what the hell I think about America. Most of the time it coincides with some patriotic holiday like Independence Day or Veterans Day or Take Your Pet To Work Day. This 4th of July was no different.

Instead of actually trying to explain what I did or didn’t figure out, I’m going to give you two songs that talk about America. In ways that I really connect with. Peace.

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Uncle Sam Goddamn by Brother Ali

smoke and mirrors, stripes and stars-
stolen from the cross in the name of god.
bloodshed, genocide, rape, and fraud,
written into the pages of the law, good lord.
the cold continent latchkey child
ran away one day and started acting foul.
king of where the wild things are, daddy’s proud
’cause the roman empire done passed it down.
imported and tortured the work force ,
and never healed the wounds or shook the curse off.
now the grown up goliath nation
holding open auditions for the part of david.
nothing can save you.
you question the reign,
you get rushed in and chained up.
fist raised, but i must be insane
‘cuz i can’t figure a single goddamn way to change it.

welcome to the united snakes-
land of the thief, home of the slave.
grand imperial guard, where the dollar is sacred
and power is god.

all must bow to the fat and lazy.
the “fuck you obey me” and “why do the hate me”.
only two generations away
from the world’s most despicable slavery trade.
pioneered so many ways to degrade a human being
that it can’t be changed to this day.
legacy so ingrained in the way that we think,
we no longer need chains to be slaves.
lord, it’s a shameful display.
the overseers even got raped along the way,
‘cuz the children can’t escape from the pain
and they’re born with the poison-
there’s hatred in their veins.
try and separate a man from his soul,
you only strengthen him and lose your own.
but shoot that fucker if he walks near the throne-
remind him that this is my home.

welcome to the united snakes-
land of the thief, home of the slave.
grand imperial guard, where the dollar is sacred
and power is god.

you don’t give money to the bums
on the corner with a sign, bleeding from their gums.
talking ’bout “you don’t support a crack head”
what you think happens to the money from your taxes?
shit, the government’s an addict
with a billion dollar a week kill brown people habit.
and even if you ain’t on the front line,
when massa yell “crunch time”, you right back at it.
you ain’t looking at how you hustling backwards,
at the end of the year, add up what they subtracted.
three out of twelve months your salary
pay for that madness, man that’s savage.
what’s left? get a big ass plasma
to see where they made dan rather point the damn camera.
only approved questions get answered,
now stand your ass up for that national anthem.

custom made
to consume the news.
keep saying we’re free,
but we’re all just loose.

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Waves of Grain by Two Gallants

Who has betrayed the deceased?
Such an infamous freedom, such a militant peace.
How dare they distrust?
Do they know who we are?

And your progeny’s brave-
Their tract housing waiting, pre-plucked and pre-paved.
To the ends of the earth,
Wife, kids and a car.

But oh, no, no, I see them falling.
Let’s all pray for rain.
Let’s all pray for rain.
And your children are reared by panic and fear.

But what, when all your fields are rotting,
Your waves of grain? Amber waves of grain.
And your work is not done:
Inbreed us ’til we’re all the same.

Your collection of tongues
You keep framed in your parlor, with your Bibles and guns,
The fetus of Christ-
With a fistful of scars.

And your vision is clear
While you blind your own kind in a curtain of fear.
Your words twisted skywards,
Distracted by stars.

But oh, no, no, the sky is falling.
Let’s all pray for rain.
Let’s all pray for rain.
You pour out your prayers and weep ‘cuz you care.

But what, when all your fields are rotting
Your waves of grain? Amber waves of grain,
And you hide the dead,
While my friends head to die in your name.