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1. |
116 Degrees
03:31
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116 Degrees
Blinken is bombing Baghdad, there's a famine in Tigray
Fires are burning in Flagstaff, blocking out the day
The wind blows so fiercely, the grass is turning brown
And it's 116 degrees in Portland-town
The spas and churches dripping with blood
A tower collapsed in Miami, damaged from the flood
Before the summer's over, who knows how many will drown
And it's 116 degrees in Portland-town
The prices of houses are rising like never before
Along with ocean waters as the temperatures soar
The developers develop, the water tables go down
And it's 116 degrees in Portland-town
In the Congress they're discussing infrastructure
Whether it should be built to withstand fire, they're not sure
They found a dead man in an RV wearing a thorny crown
And it's 116 degrees in Portland-town
Outside the motel a man was flipping out
He called 911 to tell them about
His need for mental health care, so they came and shot him down
And it's 116 degrees in Portland-town
Don't know where we're going, what kind of shit's in store
I know I'm not the first to feel like I'm knocking on the door
Of either a new dystopia or some movement of great renown
And it's 116 degrees in Portland-town
In the farms in the valley, they're out picking cherries
Dropping dead on the field with a bucket of berries
City of bridges, each one like a frown
It's 116 degrees in Portland-town
No way out, even north of the border
Welcome to the New World Order
Produced by criminal, corporate clowns
It's 116 degrees in Portland-town
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2. |
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Watch the Buildings Crumble
I heard them marching, chanting “kill them all”
I saw millions of people trapped behind ghetto walls
I saw the soldiers shooting every Friday afternoon
I saw some exposed to sickness with others made immune
I saw the tear gas in Al-Aqsa, eyes open wide
I saw the mob attack the motorist and beat him til he died
I heard the generals lying, I saw the tanks moving in
I heard the settlers shouting “let the killing begin”
Look up above, hear the ear-splitting sound
Watch the buildings crumble to the ground
See the planes in the sky there by the sea
So much like New York City
I heard the wailing voices of the dying and forlorn
Of the kids who couldn't get out and those who weren't warned
I saw all the schools and the hospitals in pieces there still
From the last time the IDF came to maim and kill
I saw the brave children with piles of rocks
Facing tanks demolishing city blocks
What's left of the grove but some sap
As they try to wipe Palestine off the map
I heard the DNC and all the Republicans too
Pledge allegiance to Netanyahu
I heard the president starting the story with rockets launched from a ghetto
Where people live in rubble, starved by an embargo
I saw a whole lot of crocodile tears on display
For the zillionth time I heard politicians say
Can both sides please deescalate
On one side are the occupied, on the other, an apartheid state
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3. |
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If A Song Could Make Your Troubles Go Away
I would write a line for your appendix, and several for your spleen
I'd write one for every day you've had to quarantine
I'd write at least a couple verses, the purest ones I ever sung
If it might help you breath easier – one for each lung
I'd sing for both your eyes, for al the words you couldn't say
If a song could make your troubles go away
I'd write a line for the state, in the hope it might fulfill
A few basic obligations, a verse for the popular will
For all the help that was promised, for each check that never came
A few words for the hunger, a few more for the shame
For a little while, a lullaby, to keep it all at bay
If a song could make your troubles go away
I'd write a line for every pickup truck loaded up with freight
One for every worker, burdened by the weight
One for the cartoneros, for each bag stuffed with cans
Verses for the veterans and for those who just began
One for each evacuee, looking for a place to stay
If a song could make your troubles go away
I'd write a line for all the lonely, for the imprisoned and the trapped
One for every trouble in which each of us are wrapped
I'd write verses for the future, for how things must evolve
If these inequities are problems that we really want to solve
I'd write a verse about the dreamers dreaming of a brighter day
If a song could make your troubles go away
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4. |
It's Been A Year
03:00
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It's Been A Year
It's been a year since the virus arrived
A year since in this country half a million died
A year since all the borders were starting to be sealed
A year since the hospitals were sprouting in the fields
No question for anyone living around here
It's been a year
It's been a year since the cafes all closed
Since the dates on the calendars froze
As the windows turned to plywood, and the plywood turned to art
And unless you were essential or worked in a food cart
Then you just had to cope with the anxiety and fear
It's been a year
It's been a year since the wheels in motion
Led to an uprising on each side of the ocean
Exposed by the pandemic, by inequality
8 46 of the neck beneath the knee
A time of counter-demos, for a while a coup seemed near
It's been a year
It's been a year since canceling the rent
A year since the last of the money was spent
Since so many saw we're all vectors for disease
And there is such a thing as society
Since the words “mutual aid” became ones you'll commonly hear
Along with “grim milestone” – yes, it's been a year
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5. |
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I Dreamed I Saw Anne Feeney
I dreamed I saw Anne Feeney, it was on a picket line
Somewhere in the world where the workers did combine
Cheering on the strikers with a guitar in her hand
From Oregon to Ireland
I dreamed I saw Anne Feeney amid the foggy glow
Of the flash-bang grenades outside the WTO
Singing songs against the war at a military fort
Or making arguments in court
I dreamed I saw Anne Feeney in the Texas hills
Singing songs around a torch at Kerrville
Crossing every bridge she could with the wheels of a car
With some CDs in the trunk along with a guitar
I dreamed I saw Anne Feeney, I dreamed she never fell
She was in Baja with her grandkids, doing swell
Sharing free advice on how to find the cheapest flights
So you can be throwing Swedish snowballs beneath the northern lights
I dreamed I saw Anne Feeney get her first dose of vaccine
Instead of reading of the people who died of Covid-19
In the New York Times, nice things that they said
But I so much wish we could have Anne still here instead
I dreamed I saw Anne Feeney
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6. |
In the Name of Freedom
03:02
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In the Name of Freedom
In the halls of power in Washington, DC
Now that the pandemic has the planet on its knees
Combined with the embargo, since they tightened up the screws
They see something flammable, they want to light a fuse
The empire can't pass up a chance to undermine
And pursue their imperial designs
Los Estados Unidos se creen (The United States believes)
el país elegido por Dios (It's God's chosen country)
para acabar con el mundo (To end the world)
en nombre de la Libertad (In the name of freedom)
From the halls of power in Washington, DC
To the collapsing buildings on the shores of Miami
You can see them on the TV, the crusaders of the north
Talking from the tent camps about bringing freedom forth
From the land where there's a massacre each and every day
Listen to the president say
In the halls of power in Washington, DC
In the wake of all the blood they have spilled across the sea
And across the very nation they claim is so free
Where 1 in 4 children each night go to bed hungry
The riot police are rioting here somewhere every night
But other people need more rights
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7. |
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When Chevron Came to Ecuador
When Chevron came to Ecuador it was Texaco back then
They did there what they did so many times again
An ocean of sludge, stored in pits unlined
No stone unturned, no resources unmined
They call it the Chernobyl of the Amazon
A thousand square miles dead and gone
When Chevron came to Ecuador it was a dictatorship there
What happened in the Amazon, they didn't care
As long as they made money, let the oil flow
Where the waste went, no one wanted to know
And if they did they could be bought, and if not
They could be abducted, tortured, and shot
When Chevron came to Ecuador the location
Was preferred by the oil corporation
Because they had free rein, there was no oversight
And if anyone complained, then one night
They'd not be seen again, it was a torture state
This was why Chevron thought it was so great
When Chevron came to Ecuador it was paradise on Earth
They turned it into a land of stillbirth
They left behind the ruins and took all the loot
Now they're trying to silence the ones who brought the lawsuit
Why was Donziger detained, a corrupt judge knows
And where are all the billions that the company owes
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8. |
Greenwood
03:24
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Greenwood
If you go to Tulsa today, in Greenwood you'll find a plaque
A paragraph remembering when the neighborhood was Black
It had been Indian Territory up til the Trail of Tears
Then the government said it was part of the frontier
People went to many places in the Great Migration
They fled, and crossed the nation
Some went to Tulsa, Oklahoma, where the dusty winds blow
Where the pogrom was, a hundred years ago
When America was settled they gave the settlers guns
Collect the scalps and bounties, that's how the west was won
And if a settler was slighted, there was little doubt
It was the duty of a white man to wipe them out
And when the World War was over, for the surviving traumatized
Unemployment and media lies Back in Tulsa...
Thousands gathered, ready for war
Nothing like the one they'd fought before
In this one the shots all went one way
Planes dropped explosives, like a World War play
Except the bombs and guns were very real
So many lives lost, that are never going to heal In Tulsa...
Insurance claims ignored, survivors interned
After thirty blocks had burned
To make sure to erase any memory
When the highway came, it went through Greenwood city
Still no reparations for all the property taken
No justice for all of those lives forsaken
In Tulsa...
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9. |
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When the Workers of the World Combine
The fifth month of the year, on the first of May
Known around the world as International Workers Day
You'll still see people marching in every corner of the Earth
St John to Santiago, Kerala to Perth
All keeping alive the fantasy, what could happen down the line
When the workers of the world combine
You can see us gathering early in the morn
Some are celebrating the shackles we have shorn
While so many billions are just waiting for
The moment that we might stop losing the class war
When someday we can all say yeah, we're doing fine
When the workers of the world combine
When that time arrives, maybe it looks like May Day
Like a festival that comes home and doesn't go away
Every race and gender, every walk and station
With the working class united, every land and nation
Then just watch what happens, when we follow the same sign
When the workers of the world combine
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David Rovics Portland, Oregon
Singer/songwriter, writer, podcaster (on Spotify, Substack & Patreon), anarchist, dad, lover of life.
David Rovics recommends:
A Hand Full Of Songs
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Seattle's Jim Page is one of the very best songwriters in the English language (and just as oriented towards what we might call the world around him as I am).
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Heart First Aid Kit
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Moving across the pond, here's one more of my favorite rabble-rousing songwriters -- Grace Petrie.
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Well Soon
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