ne paradiso socialdemocrazia.
Superproduzione.
Non ci saranno guai.
Omologazione.
lega e qualunquismo.
Non ci saranno guai.
Non ci saranno guai.
manicomi criminali.
ti puoi sempre ammazzare.
Cara maestra, un giorno m'insegnavi
che a questo mondo noi, noi siamo tutti uguali;
ma quando entrava in classe il Direttore
tu ci facevi alzare tutti in piedi,
e quando entrava in classe il bidello
ci permettevi di restar seduti...
Mio buon curato, dicevi che la chiesa
è la casa dei poveri, della povera gente;
però hai rivestito la tua chiesa
di tende d'oro e marmi colorati;
come può adesso un povero che entra
sentirsi come fosse a casa sua?...
Egregio sindaco, m'hanno detto che un giorno
tu gridavi alla gente: Vincere o morire!
Ora vorrei sapere come mai
vinto non hai eppure non sei morto,
e al posto tuo è morta tanta gente
che non voleva né vincere né morire...
Workingman's Blues #2
(Bob Dylan)
There's an evenin' haze settlin' over the town
Starlight by the edge of the creek
The buyin' power of the proletariat's gone down
Money's gettin' shallow and weak
The place I love best is a sweet memory
It's a new path that we trod
They say low wages are a reality
If we want to compete abroad
My cruel weapons have been put on the shelf
Come sit down on my knee
You are dearer to me than myself
As you yourself can see
I'm listenin' to the steel rails hum
Got both eyes tight shut
Just sitting here trying to keep the hunger from
Creeping it's way into my gut
Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You can hang back or fight your best on the front line
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues
Now, I'm sailin' on back, ready for the long haul
Tossed by the winds and the seas
I'll drag ‘em all down to hell and I'll stand ‘em at the wall
I'll sell ‘em to their enemies
I'm tryin' to feed my soul with thought
Gonna sleep off the rest of the day
Sometimes no one wants what we got
Sometimes you can't give it away
Now the place is ringed with countless foes
Some of them may be deaf and dumb
No man, no woman knows
The hour that sorrow will come
In the dark I hear the night birds call
I can hear a lover's breath
I sleep in the kitchen with my feet in the hall
Sleep is like a temporary death
Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You can hang back or fight your best on the front line
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues
Well, they burned my barn, they stole my horse
I can't save a dime
I got to be careful, I don't want to be forced
Into a life of continual crime
I can see for myself that the sun is sinking
How I wish you were here to see
Tell me now, am I wrong in thinking
That you have forgotten me?
Now they worry and they hurry and they fuss and they fret
They waste your nights and days
Them I will forget
But you I'll remember always
Old memories of you to me have clung
You've wounded me with words
Gonna have to straighten out your tongue
It's all true, everything you have heard
Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You can hang back or fight your best on the front line
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues
In you, my friend, I find no blame
Wanna look in my eyes, please do
No one can ever claim
That I took up arms against you
All across the peaceful sacred fields
They will lay you low
They'll break your horns and slash you with steel
I say it so it must be so
Now I'm down on my luck and I'm black and blue
Gonna give you another chance
I'm all alone and I'm expecting you
To lead me off in a cheerful dance
Got a brand new suit and a brand new wife
I can live on rice and beans
Some people never worked a day in their life
Don't know what work even means
Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You can hang back or fight your best on the front line
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues
Ice Cream Van
(Glasvegas)
There's a storm on the horizon
And for that I can't see the sun
For I'll keep a waiting on the pavement
For the ice-cream van to come
It's die hard hate to follow
And I'll not follow that
The marching people running round my head
Running round my head I don't know why
Why can't we see
Straight through the powers that be
Who keep us breaking each others hearts
And keeping us apart, keeping us apart
Destroying the ground where gruesome lays
Sectarianism and the hurtful racist ways
Bring back the glory days
Active citizenship
And pure community
Freedom of faith
There's a storm on the horizon...
Christmas in Washington
(Steve Earle)
It's Christmastime in Washington
The Democrats rehearsed
Gettin' into gear for four more years
Things not gettin' worse
The Republicans drink whiskey neat
And thanked their lucky stars
They said, 'He cannot seek another term
They'll be no more FDRs'
I sat home in Tennessee
Staring at the screen
With an uneasy feeling in my chest
And I'm wonderin' what it means
So come back Woody Guthrie
Come back to us now
Tear your eyes from paradise
And rise again somehow
If you run into Jesus
Maybe he can help you out
Come back Woody Guthrie to us now
I followed in your footsteps once
Back in my travelin' days
Somewhere I failed to find your trail
Now I'm stumblin' through the haze
But there's killers on the highway now
And a man can't get around
So I sold my soul for wheels that roll
Now I'm stuck here in this town
So come back Woody Guthrie
Come back to us now
Tear your eyes from paradise
And rise again somehow
If you run into Jesus
Maybe he can help you out
Come back Woody Guthrie to us now
There's foxes in the hen house
Cows out in the corn
The unions have been busted
Their proud red banners torn
To listen to the radio
You'd think that all was well
But you and me and Cisco know
It's going straight to hell
So come back, Emma Goldman
Rise up, old Joe Hill
The barracades are goin' up
They cannot break our will
Come back to us, Malcolm X
And Martin Luther King
We're marching into Selma
As the bells of freedom ring
So come back Woody Guthrie
Come back to us now
Tear your eyes from paradise
And rise again somehow
If you run into Jesus
Maybe he can help you out
Come back Woody Guthrie to us now
duecento giorni a palermo
Venite voi falsari di notizie
mercanti di voci e faccendieri
voi politici massoni
e voi giudici teoreti di misteri
venite voi antimafia da corteo
garzoni di bottega degli orrori
e voi della cupola i banchieri
chi è dentro è dentro
chi è fuori è fuori!!
Tornò a Palermo con una missione
danzavano i santi fra le rovine
mandato dal partito Pio La Torre
la verità voleva scoprire
ma la verità è intoccabile
là dove dorme con l’assassino
Pio La Torre provò a svegliarla
ma venne ucciso
ordine di un padrino.
Duecento giorni a Palermo
la strada era una preghiera
si colorò di rosso sangue
quella mattina di primavera
La storia comincia sissignori
quando Sindona va dai potenti
per togliere il sangue dal denaro
e da quel giorno iniziano i delitti eccellenti
Guerra di appalti e tangenti
tra Corleonesi e Bontade i moderati
i sicari sono al lavoro
cadono politici poliziotti e magistrati.
Duecento giorni a Palermo
la strada era una preghiera
si colorò di rosso sangue
quella mattina di primavera
Nel regno di Lima e Ciancimino
garofani e scudo crociato
fanno fortuna quattro cavalieri
Rendo Graci Costanzo e Finocchiaro
C’è anche chi è sempre d’accordo
tra i funzionari di partito
Russo e Sanfilippo sono i nomi
cooperative rosse
a Bagheria c’è chi ha capito
Duecento giorni a Palermo
la strada era una preghiera
si colorò di rosso sangue
quella mattina di primavera.
Base militare americana
a Comiso si sta per fare
ma indaga Pio La Torre e scopre
che si tratta di un altro brutto affare.
Quello che adesso ho raccontato
è solo una supposizione
ma se segui il corso del denaro
troverai la soluzione.
Duecento giorni a Palermo
la strada era una preghiera
si colorò di rosso sangue
quella mattina di primavera.
Duecento giorni a Palermo
la strada era una preghiera
si colorò di rosso sangue
quella mattina di primavera.
Southern Accents
There's a southern accent, where I come from
The young'uns call it country
The yankees call it dumb
I got my own way of talkin'
But everything is done,
with a southern accent
Where I come from
Now that drunk tank in Atlanta's
Just a motel room to me
Think I might go work Orlando
If them orange groves don't freeze
I got my own way of workin'
But everything is run,
with a southern accent
Where I come from
For just a minute there I was dreaming
For just a minute it was all so real
For just a minute she was standing there, with me
There's a dream I keep having
Where my mama comes to me
And kneels down over by the window
And says a prayer for me
I got my own way of prayin'
But everyone's begun
With a sou thern accent
Where I come from
I got my own way of livin'
But everything gets done
With a southern accent
Where I come from
Articolo 21
