2. Valdez
Vague
he said "I like your music but you gotta tone it down
it’s the wrong kind of people in the wrong part of town
don’t be comin' on so strong
gotta go easy if you want to get along"
I said "what do you mean" he said "you’re too realistic
you might want to try to be more artistic
don’t hit the nail so hard on the head
try to be a little more instead"
I said “vague?" he said "vague"
I said "I’ll think about it"
so I thought about it, and I said
"cancer isn’t vague when there’s poison in your water
like rape isn’t vague when it happens to your daughter
you can see lot better when the fog bank clears
prison ain’t vague when you’re facin’ 20 years
"homeless isn’t vague when you’re livin' on the street
like a blister isn’t vague when it’s burnin' on your feet
like hunger isn’t vague when there’s nothin' to eat
are you gettin' the picture?"
And he said "well yeah, but you’re so hardcore"
So I told him some more, I said
"ain’t nothin' vague about a jack boot state
it’s just a ruse that they use when they want to relate
to a vague population that’ll swallow it whole
it pays to be vague when you’re takin' control
"change isn’t vague when the tables are turning
like a fire isn’t vague when your house is burning
it’s a hard lesson but I think we’re learning
are you getting’ the picture"
and he said "yeah, but what do want from me?"
And I said…
"every rapper every singer every guitar slinger
every poet every writer if you call yourself fighter
everybody with a brain and a way to explain
you better get jumpin’ while your blood’s still pumpin’
"cause the clock is tickin’ with a great big grin
and the hammer don’t wait for the votes to come in
like a fox in the hen house greasin’ his chin
there ain’t nothin’ vague about the state we’re in"
no, there ain't nothin' vague about it
there ain't nothin' vague about it-------------------
Valdez
Headlines hit the papers, and everybody heard -
black water floatin' full of dead fish and sea birds.
Oil spill spreadin' up the north Pacific coast,
attackin' Mother Nature in the land you love the most.
Cuttin' corners, pushin' profits to the high limit line.
Too few people workin' too much overtime.
Too many bad moves pushin' to the brink.
Is it any wonder that the captain took a drink?
Is this the price of our glory? Cost of our fame?
Is this the end of our story? It's a crying, dying shame.
Power is the hunger, yes, and money is the feed.
Oil is what they make it with, though some just call it greed.
Empire logic throwing very loaded dice.
They come up with a loser and we all pay the price.
They said it wouldn't happen and they lied in your face,
and they covered up their excess to keep it in its place.
Lining influential pockets of the politic machine,
suckin' up their fortunes from a can of gasoline.
You shoulda seen 'em hustle with the propaganda crews.
Apologetic postures on the six o'clock news.
The high cost of cleanup is a capital sacrifice,
but they'll get all that and more back when they raise the gas pump price.
Let the captain be the scapegoat, set him up to fall.
Gather up the blame and let him shoulder it all.
So while every eye is focused on this solitary man,
the real culprits will slip right through your hands.
Think about the muscle of the money in their fist -
this great corporate bully pugilist.
To get away with anything that dollars will decree,
to waste the natural wonder for the sake of their economy.
Well, something has to happen and it has to happen soon
before this good green earth looks like the surface of the moon.
Let's put our heads together, let's see what can be done.
Let's repossess our future while we still have one.
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