2. The Ballad Of Jesse James and Lester Quinn
3. The Ballad Of Poor Marcel
4. The Ballad Of Reverend Jim and Jerry Lee
5. The Banker and the Boss
6. Beautiful Tear
7. Big John and the Mandolin
8. Bishop On the Run
9. Black Snow
10. Bobby Cortez
11. Bound For Outta Town
12. The Bullet and the Pen
13. Bus To Come
14. Butterfly Wings
The Ballad Of George Jackson
George Jackson died with a bullet in his head
his body was given a front page spread
no one will ever know what was said
when he died with a bullet in the top of his head
the year was 1971
San Quentin prison in the California sun
tension tight like a lighted fuse
under the heel of authority's shoes
it was a time of a great revolutionary war
that shook the core of America
and George was a symbol of the fatal flaw
a black man up against the white man's law
(chorus)
and they shot him down, put him under the ground
yes they shot him down, so he could not make a sound
George was a man who was hard to hold
locked up inside since he was 18 years old
never backed down from a deed too strong
spent a lot of time thinkin' how the line got drawn
education, I've heard it said
he had a hundred books up under his bed
the mind is a weapon if you use it well
even if you're livin' in a prison cell
his first book came to a wide acclaim
hit the outside world like a fiery rain
his second book followed with a fatal blow
and word came down George had to go
(instrumental)
the plans were made and the trap was set
it was August 21st, I remember it yet
it was a hot sun summer afternoon
when George went out to meet his doom
executioner up in the tower so high
like the California sun way up in the sky
a flash of fire, an echo of lead
and George went down with a bullet in his head
camera's eye where he lay on the ground
they took a photograph and they passed it all around
and they said they had to do it, he was gettin' away
there was no other choice, there was no other way
(chorus)
George Jackson lay where his life was done
while his mother cried in the California sun
for the child she'd never live again to touch
and the man who died because he knew too much
but memory lingers and so they tell
after all this time you can feel him still
inside where they struggle with a lighted fuse
under the heel of authority's shoes
(instrumental)
there's gotta be a reason for singin' this song
you can kill the body but the idea lives on
all those people, all those years
soldiers born from a river of tears
pressure drops and the storm wind blows
truth is a window that's hard to close
honor to the names of the ones that fell
the mind is a weapon if you use it well
(chorus)
--------------
The Ballad Of Jesse James And Lester Quinn
down along the border where the agents prowl around
the dogs begin a-barkin' as their footbeats hit the ground
where they look the other way and no one dares to make a sound
'cept to say that Jesse James and Lester Quinn are back in town
preachers preach the gospel as the light begins to fade
and all the downtown ladies they all go out on parade
and no one sees the one who watches from the shade
and Jesse James and Lester Quinn are lookin' to get paid
the sargeant and the constable both play a game of chance
all is very hopeless you can tell it at a glance
and beneath the fading neon the legend of romance
and Jesse James and Lester Quinn are lookin' for their chance
the watch tower guard from the penetentiary
magnifies his eyes to make it easier to see
and everybody knows about bad company
and Jesse James and Lester Quinn are shootin' for the first degree
there's a shootout at the station and the paddy wagon comes
the hero is rewarded and they hang him by his thumbs
there is really never nothing new above the sun
and Jesse James and Lester Quinn done got you on the run
it's all so very real it will make your head spin
you play it wrong you lose, you play it right you're bound to win
and if you don't believe it, well you better think again
or take your chances with Jesse James and Lester Quinn
The Ballad Of Poor Marcel
let me tell you the story of Poor Marcel
how he lived and how he died
how the point of his own hand
did cut him in his stride
I knew him well from mornings
when I watched him rob the shoes
of old men asleep with wine
with only shoes to lose
he never said a word
and he never made a sound
he never left a footprint
when he walked upon the ground
with a black patch eye
and a face of solid stone
he came and went just like a ghost
and always went alone
it was in the middle of the afternoon
the day was hot and bright
when two small boys
came into his sight
“who are you,” they said to him
“and tell us what you have”
Marcel he just turned his back
I never saw him laugh
the oldest was eleven
and the youngest he was eight
Marcel pulled a knife
and he flashed it in their face
“get outta here,” he said to them
“or I’ll cut you to the bone”
they ran off away in fright
and left him there alone
it was on the very next morning
as the sky was growing gray
that two men pulled the knives
that were to take his life away
someone cried, “isn’t anybody here?
a mane could bleed to death
oh my god
what kind of place is this”
then someone come a-runnin’
but by then it was too late
for Poor Marcel
had already met his fate
the air hung hot
there was runnin’ on the ground
and all you could hear
was that park murder sound
on the blanket where the preacher slept
Marcel’s blood did flow
“I’m afraid that your time has come
I’ think you’d better know”
and seven hours later
as the police shook their head
seven hours later
Poor Marcel was dead
now there are those who say that it makes no sense
anybody could be dead
and then again there are those who know
and there’s nothing to be said
but I just told the story
call it truth or call it lie
it’s just about Poor Marcel
how he lived and how he died
-------------
Ballad of Reverend Jim and Jerry Lee
Reverend Jim and Jerry Lee
they were cousins on the family tree
one went into rock and roll music
and the other went on the TV
look up into those big bright lights
tell me what you think you see
is it god or is it the devil
Reverend Jim or Jerry Lee
now, a rock and roller gets the girls
more than the other fellas
it’s enough to make a holy roller
get a little jealous
and a rock and roller’s got the groupies
all standing in line
while a holy roller all he’s got is
temptation workin’ overtime
a rock and roller jumps right in
like there ain’t nothin’ to it
while a holy roller gotta scratch his chin
and say the devil made him do it
when a rock a roller gets caught
his record sales soar
when a holy roller takes the plunge
they run him right out of the door
don’t want to see him no more
oh Reverend Jim
look at what happened to him
oh Reverend Jim
look at what happened to him
you shoulda seen the big tears
rollin’ down the color TV
like little twisted pictures
of the reverends impropriety
like a liquid salvation
they settled in his ear
it was the greatest performance
of the reverend’s career
oh Reverend Jim
look at what happened to him
oh Reverend Jim
look at what happened to him
in this world of sinful skin
where the fallen angels dwell
they say that even Jesus
had a woman at the well
so if you’re changing channels
and you’re lookin’ for a sight to see
turn off Reverend Jim
and Turn it onto Jerry Lee
oh Reverend Jim
look at what happened to him
oh Reverend Jim
look at what happened to him
goodness gracious
great balls of fire!
----------------
The Banker And The Boss
Jesus came from the ghetto
with the rats and the crust of bread
went downtown with a big idea
came back with a price on his head
you’ve all heard the story
about the miracles and the king
but if you listen hard enough
you can hear the trap door swing
don’t let ‘em fool you
it was the banker and the boss
who took insurgent Jesus
and hung him on the cross
nobody cares about a ghetto kid
when he stays where he belongs
but you go steppin’ out of line my friend
somethin’s bound to go wrong
Jesus got smart one day
and he began to realize
you’ll never get anywhere in this world
unless you organize
so he went down town and started talkin’
and then he talked some more
he said it was the banker and the boss
keepin’ everybody poor
and people listened, yes they did
they liked what he had to say
how the poor would inherit the world
and the rich would have to pay
nobody cares about a ghetto kid
till he goes downtown
starts agitatin’
then the word just gets around
they send out their soldiers
with their shiny silver blades
gonna take insurgent Jesus
gonna lay him in the shade
bring him in on charges
don’t matter if they stick
you can call it religion if you want to
but it was only just politics
nobody cares about a ghetto kid
until he starts to make some waves
then the law kicks in with a vengeance
you know it’s always been that way
Jesus had a safe house
and he had his comrades too
but an infiltrator turned him in
just like they always do
and when they took him off in irons
you could hear his mother cry
they convicted him of high treason
and sentenced him to die
as they took him down
from that execution cross
they thought about what he said
about the banker and the boss
and they knew it was a long time
and a hard way to survive
and they knew that the big idea was the right idea
and they had to keep it alive
so when they told the story
they told it this way
that soldiers killed the bottle with the genie inside
but the genie got away
‘cause nobody cares about a ghetto kid
until it’s too late
then they gotta wash the blood off their hands
and get their story straight
but don’t let ‘em fool you
it was the banker and the boss
who took insurgent Jesus
and hung him on the cross
-----------------
Beautiful Tear
there’s another one gone
another sad song
another great acre of rage
it’s a mystery tree
why’d this happen to me
a tragedy played on a musical stage
the innocents dance
take their love if by chance
with a glance at eternity’s treasure
planting a seed
with no warning or heed
it’s a weight that’s too heavy to measure
and all of the world’s water
could never rain such a beautiful tear
I held you in my arms last night
and this morning you’re no longer here
oh I stood in the rain
and I whispered your name
and I almost thought that you answered
but it was only a feeling
my dizzy head reeling
I never was much of a dancer
last time I saw you
you didn’t see me
your terminal eyes were unfocussed
like a shadow of smoke
when the bubble was broke
you’ve gone to the plague of the locusts
and all of the world’s water
could never rain such a beautiful tear
I held you in my arms last night
and this morning you’re no longer here
------------------
Big John And The Mandolin
it was a Tuesday afternoon and Shay was at the bar
and I was with a friend or two, you know how they are
the pints were fine and quiet, conversation running thin
when Big John came in through the door with a stolen mandolin
now we all knew each other, by namesake and trade
and everybody knew how everybody else got paid
"check this out" says Big John with a swagger in his sound
"brand new mandolin, cost ya thirty pounds"
now, me I wasn't so inclined so I passed it on the fly
but one out of the other two says "I'll give it a try
but thirty pounds is a bit too much, right now I'm kinda tight"
says Big John "Shay'll loan it to you - ain't that right?"
we all looked up where Big John stood so high above our heads
they said he'd kill a deer with his bare hands to keep his family fed
his reputation far and wide was known throughout the town
and there never was a law could keep Big John jailed down
the whole world held its breath and teetered for a fall
for in this bandit's lair we were bandits one and all
and Shay, he was nobody's fool, he could thank his lucky stars
he opened up the till and put the money on the bar
Big John took the money and he left the way he came
and the other took the mandolin, though I will not call him by his name
and we all had another drink to toast the afternoon
for all our lives were music and music had to have a tune
now I know you disapprove, I know you feel it in disgust
but I also know that you weren't there 'cause there was no one there but us
and morality is fleeting when it comes to right and wrong
so I'll just let it go at that and sing another song
Bishop On The Run
Eamon Casey took a vow
I don't know when, don't matter how
put on the cap and gown
and he was the Bishop of Galway town
holy orders are so intense
attending to your abstinence
from fleshly pleasures fair and foul
it's enough to make you throw in the towel
one fine day a woman came
Annie Murphy was her name
and oh the flaming fires grew
it was the natural thing to do
but nature is a raging thing
so vows be damned, let's have a fling
till she grew in the family way
and he sent her away from Galway Bay
time passed by on either hand
the baby grew to be a young man
and like any such a child does
he wondered where his father was
then in the spring of '92
the scandal ripped the cloth in two
a rendering so deep and wide
that the Bishop had to run and hide
Bishop on the run
look at what you done
Bishop on the run
Jesus was an only son
shockwaves hit the Vatican
“oh my god, not that again!”
publicity, the devil's flashlight
man, it was a dreadful sight
the Pope put on his best glasses
and said a special mass to the masses
“our father who art on the lam
help us get out of this jam!”
(chorus)
now the Bishop's gone, he's off the hook
and Annie Murphy wrote a book
the controversy rages on
that's why I wrote this song
it seems to me, if I may say
some things can't stand the light of day
and things like these, without a doubt
we'd all be better off without
(chorus)
------------------
Black Snow
Dark red sunset, baby's got a bad cough
uneasy feelin', hard to shake it off
winter's too wet and summer's too dry
look at mother nature with a tear in her eye
I see a lot of big heads with little bitty brains
brag about the flag wavin' military trains
and the missile and the muscle and the deadly desire
leavin' all those runaway oil well fires
and the wind picks up and it carries it away
to London, and Cairo, and old Bombay
and there's black snow fallin' at the top of the earth
while the banker's out countin' up his money's worth
and it may be too late this time
and it may be too late, I can almost see to the end of the line
hypnotized with the words we use
sounding out the big lie and calling it news
and the undertaker's solemn glance
at the great ceremonial patriot's dance
a woman told me this story, she had tears in her eyes
she said we're all being buried by a mountain of lies
somebody's gotta tell it, somebody's gotta care
there's just too many unborn babies out there
and it may be too late this time
and it may be too late, I can almost see to the end of the line
-----------------
Bobby Cortez
Bobby Cortez was a friend of mine back in the days of old
in the California valley haze when we were ten years old
freely tied together in the way of all best friends
little knowing where we were going or how it would end
Bobby never had a vicious thought within his heart and mind
but the pathways laid for him to follow were different from mine
for him it was the migrant orchards or the hoodlum's hard design
society's brutality would quickly make up his mind
all inside of two short years the damage it was done
and I could hardly recognize him for what he had become
the violence of the silence that held him in his place
had made him mean with eyes of fierce defiance in his face
and all his friends were numbered now among the dangerous ones
with razor blades and links of chain and zip guns
urban jungle escapades set fire to the fuel
so legally at sixteen he dropped out of school
mis-fitted for the outside world at every turn gone wrong
he joined up in the army and they sent him off to Vietnam
a cannon fodder soldier, to the slaughter he was led
and in some frightened foreign jungle caught a bullet in his head
back in school we heard the news and like a dream it came and passed
his name was added to a tombstone that was a gift from the graduating class
given to all of those of us who had fallen to the war
and Bobby Cortez, his name was number four
how many souls are molded by a devious device
to be cast aside beside the bloody road to paradise
to fill the courts and jails till their numbers overflow
they may be among your finest friends if you could only know
--------------
Bound For Out Of Town
Brother Long John and Sister Annabelle
downtown by the handout and the hollowed out hotel
bought a one way ticket from the old soldier
went walkin’ down the skidway with a bag across their shoulder
they were bound for Ketchikan
bound for out of town
Dangerous Dan, the one they call Hard Nose
with his underwater eyes and a mortgage on his clothes
asked Fat Albert for a phone booth and a dime
Albert said he’d like to help him but he did not have the time
he was bound for Ketchikan
bound for out of town
the pawnbroker foreclosed, runnin’ over time
the poet and the reptile done clean run out rhymes
rock and roll and hard turpentine
make the loose professional walk the crooked line
bound for Ketchikan
bound for out of town
multi sexual, anything goes
eyeshade makeup and carnival clothes
hunger unappeasable and never satisfied
keep you always on the run with never no place to hide
not even in Ketchikan
or bound for out of town
private prejudicial clubs keep outsiders in their place
everything from bad manners to the language of your face
those who know the value are those that’ve been denied
respecting all but the dead for they’ve already died
and be buried in Ketchikan
down and out of town
hail to the hero, a long time
come home to meet the stranger woman, mother of his son
honor and salute you with 21 shots of lead
if you get lucky hero you might catch one with your head
and be bound for Ketchikan
bound for out of town
contract licensees and ID cards
they check the hotels, they check the railroad yards
and the refugees, their first time on the street
all sell their shoes to make it easy on their feet
they are bound for Ketchikan
bound for out of town
now the dangerous majority are tired of all this talk
guards don’t help, don’t trust no padlock
those that want to get out better get out while they can
better start walkin’ while you still got a leg to stand on
and be bound for Ketchikan
bound for out of town
--------------------
The Bullet And The Pen
picture yourself in a different place
with a different name and a different face
in a different country under different skies
looking’ at the world through different eyes
and you see your future doomed to be
victim to the violence of a cycle of poverty
with only one way through
well tell me what would you do
tell me what would you do
the bullet and the pen
they fight for the one with the other one
the bullet and the pen
they fight for the right till the war is one
it’s true
so tell me what would you do
you see the landlord’s palace and the house of pain
where the money and the muscle and the gunshots reign
and the politics play their puppet creed
to make so may good people bleed
see the generals with their shiny braids
and the polished jack boots promenade
faceless thugs in plain view
well tell me what would you do
tell me what would you do
tell me would you stand and fight
for such a basic human right
the right to read the printed page
the right to die of old age
when the secret of the world unlocks
and the lid flies off Pandora’s box
the future will be in plain view
so tell me what will you do
tell me what will you do
-----------------
----------------
Bus To Come
sittin’ down waitin for the bus to come
but the bus don’t come this part of town
I’ll be sittin’ down waitin for the bus to come
till the sun goes down
there’s money for the rich man’s swimmin’ pool
but nothin’ for the kids to go to school
libraries closin’ down
the bus don’t run this part of town
sittin’ down waitin for the bus to come
but the bus don’t come this part of town
I’ll be sittin’ down waitin for the bus to come
till the sun goes down
they’re buildin brand new thoroughfares
construction projects everywhere
if I had my way I’d tear ‘em down
the bus don’t run this part of town
sittin’ down waitin for the bus to come
but the bus don’t come this part of town
I’ll be sittin’ down waitin for the bus to come
till the sun goes down
when they want money to start a war
they get everything they want and more
but we don’t get a way around
the bus don’t run this part of town
it’s a broke down engine out of steam
flat tires on the American Dream
ain’t gonna be no trickle down
‘cause the bus don’t run this part of town
sittin’ down waitin for the bus to come
but the bus don’t come this part of town
I’ll be sittin’ down waitin for the bus to come
till the sun goes down
I love you, you love me too
but love alone won’t see us through
gotta turn this thing around
‘cause the bus don’t run this part of town
sittin’ down waitin for the bus to come
but the bus don’t come this part of town
I’ll be sittin’ down waitin for the bus to come
till the sun goes down
Butterfly Wings
from the rooftop of the clouds
you can see the curve of the earth
sometimes you have to face your own mortality
just to know what that’s worth
corporations of the apocalypse
showdown at the break of day
all you have is your bare hands
but you face them anyway
survival depends on the pendulum swing
the future is riding on your butterfly wings
helicopter swingblade
it can be a dangerous sky
Jack the Ripper with a chain saw
well he’s been a busy guy
and they come with their machinery
their axes and their shiny new blades
and the wheels spin on Wall Street
fortunes for the money they made
the conquering armies of the timberland kings
maybe you can slow them down a little with your butterfly wings
these trees are a thousand years old
they were here before Columbus
no one has any right to cut them down
no one among us
some one had to stop them
some one had to at least give it a try
now you sit up so high
you can look an eagle in the eye
and the storm winds rage, the arrows and slings
but you’ll outlast them all with your butterfly wings
time is on the run, and time waits for no one
time is on the run, and time waits for no one
no one, not even you
now the whole world is watching
with wide open eyes
spinning into infinity
underneath millennium skies
stepping up to the cliff edge, looking over
it’s a long way down
sooner or later we’re gonna
all have to learn to walk on the ground
survival depends on the pendulum swing
and maybe we’ll make it if we ride on your butterfly wings
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