connecting*the*dots

Artist: Deltron 3030
Featuring: Del Tha Funkee Homosapian
Song: Love Story

==========

Yo yo yo, check this out man
1 for you, 2 for me
3 for you, 15 for me
20 for you… now check it out

Yo
I just won 10 grand in the Galactic
Rhyme Federation championship, so I’m lampin a bit
I feel like returnin to Earth and burnin some herb
I’m sick of lookin at the inside of space stations
Time for Deltron to take a vacation
My expertise in aviation got us to our destination (where?)
The East Bay
My living quarters is completely froze solid
I thaw it out with a heat ray
Now I’m chillin in a sauna, pulsating jet streams
Peeping out in virtual reality my wet dreams
Perusing my 21st century classic comics, the fun is astronomic
(ha ha ha) I figured since I’m here I’ll renew my galactic passport
So I’m not persecuted by no galactic assholes
Schemers on the ave
With their holographic hat-tricks
Using magnetism to pick-pocket citizens
Tourists walk around with memory apprehension glasses
They attempt to capture
The past tense
Virtual junkies, burnt out and lost
War veterans still trapped in the Holocaust

Yes I know all the answers
Living in my true love’s arms

I’m sittin on the porch readin Cosmopolitan
Peepin all these dumb hoes with enhanced collagen
I’m calling in sick today
Big mistake
This resulted in a final pay check and pink slip ?
Replaced by my successor cause I missed my place
Knowin that the Rhyme Federation will miss my face
(fuck y’all)
Referred to as a big disgrace
Now I’m free-lance with more risk to take
Now a rhymin merc, finding certified androids
Hit a convention, signin autographs for fan-boys
They admire
My enhanced stanzas
And how I dodge man-hunts
And security cameras
Avoided apprehension in sub-atomic dimensions
And even more impressive cause of what we livin
A self contained environment, I suggest I’m just a minor threat
I see a thing of beauty fly as heck, standing by her desk
Paid her my respects, I was too scared to try to step
So I deployed one of my androids with dialect
Synthesized with my voice perfectly replicated
Asked for her name, and was she married?
“No we’re separated”

*Booty*
Baby… baby you’re looking real fine…
Your behind, you got 3 booty cheeks…
That’s kind of unique for… for a ?
What say me and you hit the hot spot over at your house ?
I got a few sandwiches ? eaten
Yo it’s cool though, you got one eye ? trippin though
Listen you, me and you, we gon’ ?, we gon’ far, go all the way to Mars
Venus… we’ll go to Venus if you want to
Venus, Paris… ?

Yes I know all the answers
Living in my true love’s arms (2x)

Artist: Pink Floyd
Song: If

==========

(Waters)

If I were a swan, I’d be gone.
If I were a train, I’d be late.
And if I were a good man,
I’d talk with you
More often than I do.

If I were to sleep, I could dream.
If I were afraid, I could hide.
If I go insane, please don’t put
Your wires in my brain.

If I were the moon, I’d be cool.
If I were a book, I would bend for you.
If I were a good man, I’d understand
The spaces between friends.

If I were alone, I would cry.
And if I were with you, I’d be home and dry.
And if I go insane,
And they lock me away,
Will you still let me join in the game?

If I were a swan, I’d be gone.
If I were a train, I’d be late again.
If I were a good man,
I’d talk with you
More often than I do.

Opens tomorrow, May 11th.

‘Hip Hop Project’ is a Long Time Coming
Davey D

[…] “It focuses on Chris Rolle, a.k.a. Kazi, a former homeless youth from the Bahamas who bears the emotional scars of abandonment by his mother. As a teenager, he lived a rugged life on the streets of Brooklyn, but he eventually “found his way,” thanks to hip-hop and a dream of becoming a rapper.

As a young adult, however, Kazi set aside that dream to dedicate his life to helping wayward teens. He launched a mentoring program named the Hip Hop Project, with the goal of getting youngsters to write, record and release a compilation album. Another goal was to get the young musicians to move beyond the all-too-familiar themes of sex, violence and misogyny. Kazi challenged them to dig deep and find their inner voices.

The process became a four- or five-year journey, as Kazi explored the deep-seated issues these teens faced, which went way beyond lyrics. In a recent interview, he explained that most young people lack the confidence to open up and express themselves, instead displaying only anger and a facade of callousness. He soon realized that they had developed callouses to protect the tender parts – their hearts and spirits.

Kazi understood that their lyrics initially reflected the pain resulting from a fatalistic view of life. The album became a secondary concern, as he realized that the kids needed healing to get on with their mental and spiritual development. And while dedicating every waking hour to assisting them, Kazi confronted his own issues over abandonment.” […]

Click To Play

Keith Robinson dropping science and experiences on the crowd last week at the C37Words production, Poetry GSO Slam, in Greensboro, NC.

If you felt that as much as I did in person, I’ll leave it up to you to transcribe the lyrics in the comment field.

Each Sunday, I’m going to spotlight a Hip Hop artist who isn’t a product of the music industry and can’t be cornered into representing the stereotypes that are so convenient for American mainstream media to manipulate.

This week, it’s Dead Prez.

Let’s kick it off with an interview of M-1 by Tao Ruspoli of LAFCO, where M-1 breaks down both his inspirations and his very real decision to make revolutionary choices on a daily basis:

Now stic.man, the other half of DP, who shares an experience from childhood — and the American educational system — that put him squarely on the path of self-determination, self-expression, independence and freedom. Again, brought to you by the folks of LAFCO:

Every revolution needs to be documented, otherwise who would believe that it was ever happening in the first place? Atlanta based photographer, Shannon McCollum, is the man who does just that for DP:

Are you feeling what goes into their work yet? Now, the product itself:

Uh, uh, uh, 1-2, 1-2
Uh, uh, 1-2, 1-2, uh, uh
All my dogs…

[Hook]
It’s bigger than..hip..hop..hip..hop..hip..hop..hip..
It’s bigger than..hip..hop..hip..hop..hip..hop..hip-hop

[M1]
Uh, one thing ’bout music when it hit you feel no pain
White folks say it controls yo’ brain
I know better than that, that’s game
And we ready for that - two soldiers head of the pack
Matter of fact, who got the gat?
And where my army at? Rather attack and not react
Back to beats, it don’t reflect on how many records get sold
On sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll
Whether your project’s put on hold
In the real world; these just people with ideas
They just like me and you when the smoke and camera disappear
Against the real world *echos*
It’s bigger than all these fake-ass records
When po’ folks got the millions and my woman’s disrespected
If you check 1-2, my word of advice to you is just relax
Just do what you got to do; if that don’t work, then kick the facts
If you a fighter, rider, biter, flame-ignitor, crowd-exciter
Or you wanna jus’ get high, then just say it
But then if you a liar-liar, pants on fire, wolf-crier, agent wit’ a wire
I’m gon’ know it when I play it

[Hook]

[stic.man]
Uh, who shot Biggie Smalls?
If we don’t get them, they gon’ get us all
I’m down for runnin’ up on them crackers in they city hall
We ride for y’all - all my dogs stay real
Nigga, don’t think these record deals gon’ feed your seeds
And pay your bills, because they not
MCs get a little bit of love and think they hot
Talkin’ ’bout how much money they got; all y’all records sound the same
I’m sick of that fake thug, R&B-rap scenario, all day on the radio
Same scenes in the video, monotonous material
Y’all don’t here me though
These record labels slang our tapes like dope
You can be next in line and signed; and still be writing rhymes and broke
You would rather have a Lexus? or justice? a dream? or some substance?
A Beamer? a necklace? or freedom?
Still a nigga like me don’t playa-hate, I just stay awake
This real hip-hop; and it don’t stop ’til we get the po-po off the block
They call it…

[Hook 2x]

[Repeat 6x]
D.P.’s got that crazy shit
We keep it crunked-up, John Blazed and shit

(*”They call it, call it, call it” -> stic.man*)
(*”Fake, fake, fake records” -> M1*)

More Dead Prez:

• I Believe
• They School
• These Are The Times
• Radio Freq
• Mind Sex
• Hell Yeah

Artist: Public Enemy (ft. Sister Souljah & Paris)
Song: Hard Rhymin’
Release Date: 2006

==========

[Sister Souljah]
Brothers and sisters, this is not a test
I’ve been asked by Public Enemy leader Chuck D to make this emergency announcement
The police in your cities, for all intents and purposes
have declared open season on black people (hey yo check one two)
Public Enemy was driven into the underground by government forces
However a small resistance is forming
Both Terminator X and Chuck D have resurfaced
Leading a small mobile rebel unit, “The Valley of the Jeep Beats”
(1-2-3-4-5-6)

[Chuck D]
Hard rhyme and the rebel is on the mic
One time, rhyme animal’s on the mic
They’re still keepin, youth asleep an’
We in the hood with heat and still beatin
And we back with the rap that packs the room
Black tracks with the rhythm that make you move
Can’t hush the bumrush, we bust the sound
with these sonic bombs, feel the pressure all around
Raise the level I’m up again rhymin
Ridin on the devil since I began rhymin
Hell we bring back the meat that rap lacks
Cause like I said, we got sold down the river
And I ain’t for these racist wars
A lie’s fed by these TV whores
I know it’s more to news fake the truth
We break through won’t lose we move with Public Enemy

[Chorus 2X: Chuck D] + (Paris)
Hard rhyme when the rebel is on the mic
One time rhyme animal’s on the mic
(It’s P.E. - whattup - it’s on you, brother what’chu wanna do)
(Brother tell me if it’s on, it’s on)

[Chuck D]
Now hip-hop was a gift that lifted up
Loved rap ’til the companies ripped it up
Now the soul is set, we’ve been had like jazz
If you down for change then they take your voice away
And then they tell you the best is white
Co-signed by a nigga that pimped the mic
Make the rule the view that the beef is cool
But what it do is fool the few fools who buy the feud
Keep the people all blind and dumb dancin
Never let a record that wreck become rampant
See the street copycat the crap rap and songs
Not knowin “There’s a POISON Goin’ On”
‘Til the message revealed and I show
But you never get to hear it on the radio
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, fuck Jack!
Bust that, squeeze, rewind the shit, c’mon

[Chorus]

[Interlude - scratching and samples]
“C’mon now!” DJ Lord
“Here we go again”
“C’mon now!” Guerilla Funk
(Hey yo check one..)

[Chuck D]
We move as a team to keep them demons out
Y’all know what I’m talkin about
See ‘em used, abused, confused us into thinkin that
bein ghetto mean the same as bein ignorant
And so we strive to rise and get by
No peace for the beast we police and shine the light
Culture vanish on the television pimpin those
on “Cribs” in a home that they never own
Damn! Tell me that once again
Radio and the video don’t uplift
Take a stand be demandin all my freedom and my civil rights
Worldwide fight the plan and they genocide
Yes the road is long and hard
And when I’m gone you’ll say I did my part
Keep gunnin, we the crew that never lose
on the ones and the motherfuckin twos, Public Enemy

[Chorus] - 2X

[Flavor Flav]
Hey yo check one two
Yeah that’s right, Flavor Flav takin you back to the next millennium
You know what I’m sayin? Always cold cold kille-enum
You know what I’m sayin? And I ain’t playin
It’s all in the message that we’re layin
I got a secret weapon, you know what I’m sayin?
Let’s take two steps to the rear, we gettin out of here
You know what I’m sayin? Operation Cold Killin ‘Em to the next millenium

Flavor Flav, rock the house

Hey yo check one two

Artists: Mos Def - Immortal Technique - Eminem

=============

[Mos Def - talking]
Man, you hear this bullshit they be talkin’
Every day, man
It’s like these motherfuckers is just like professional liars
YouknowwhatI’msayin? It’s wild
Listen

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]

[Verse 1 - Immortal Technique]
I pledge no allegiance, nigga fuck the president’s speeches
I’m baptized by America and covered in leeches
The dirty water that bleaches your soul and your facial features
Drownin’ you in propaganda that they spit through the speakers
And if you speak about the evil that the government does
The Patriot Act’ll track you to the type of your blood
They try to frame you, and say you was tryna sell drugs
And throw a federal indictment on niggaz to show you love
This shit is run by fake Christians, fake politicians
Look at they mansions, then look at the conditions you live in
All they talk about is terrorism on television
They tell you to listen, but they don’t really tell you they mission
They funded Al-Qaeda, and now they blame the Muslim religion
Even though Bin Laden, was a CIA tactician
They gave him billions of dollars, and they funded his purpose
Fahrenheit 9/11, that’s just scratchin’ the surface

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]

[Verse 2 - Immortal Technique]
They say the rebels in Iraq still fight for Saddam
But that’s bullshit, I’ll show you why it’s totally wrong
Cuz if another country invaded the hood tonight
It’d be warfare through Harlem, and Washington Heights
I wouldn’t be fightin’ for Bush or White America’s dream
I’d be fightin’ for my people’s survival and self-esteem
I wouldn’t fight for racist churches from the south, my nigga
I’d be fightin’ to keep the occupation out, my nigga
You ever clock someone who talk shit, or look at you wrong?
Imagine if they shot at you, and was rapin’ your moms
And of course Saddam Hussein had chemical weapons
We sold him that shit, after Ronald Reagan’s election
Mercenary contractors fightin’ a new era
Corporate military bankin’ off the war on terror
They controllin’ the ghetto, with the failed attack
Tryna distract the fact that they engineerin’ the crack
So I’m strapped like Lee Malvo holdin’ a sniper rifle
These bullets’ll touch your kids, and I don’t mean like Michael
Your body be sent to the morgue, stripped down and recycled
I fire on house niggaz that support you and like you
Cuz innocent people get murdered in the struggle daily
And poor people never get shit and struggle daily
This ain’t no alien conspiracy theory, this shit is real
Written on the dollar underneath the Masonic seal

(I don’t rap for dead presidents
I’d rather see the president dead
It’s never been said but I set precedents)–[Eminem]

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]

(Shady Records was 80 seconds away from the towers
Some cowards fucked with the wrong building, they meant to hit ours)– [Eminem]

I am not angry; I am anger.
I am not dangerous; I am danger.
I am abominable stress, eliotic, relentless.
I’m a breath of vengeance.
I’m a death sentence.
I’m forsaking repentance,
to the beast in his hench men.

Armed forces and policemen
that survived off of oils and prisons until there cup runneth over with lost souls.
That wear over-sized caps like blind-folds
Shiny necklaces like lassoes
Draggin’ them into black-holes
And I may have to holla out to Fidel Castro
To get my other brothers outta Guantanimo

And the innocence on death row?
It’s probably in the same proportion to criminals in black robes
That smack gavels
That crack domes
That smack gavels
That smash homes

Justice is somewhere between reading sad poems and 40 oz of gasoline crashing through windows
It is between plans and action
It is between writing letters to congressmen and clocking the captain
It is between raising legal defense funds and putting a gun to the bailiff and taking the judge captive
It is between prayer and fasting
Between burning and blasting
Freedom is between the mind and the soul
Between the lock and the load
Between the zeal of the young and the patience of the old
Freedom is between a finger and the trigger
It is between the page and the pen
It is between the grenade and the pin
Between righteous and keeping one in the chamber

So what can they do with a cat with a heart like Turner
A mind like Douglass
A mouth like Malcolm
And a voice like Chris?!

That is why I am not dangerous; I am danger
I am not angry, I am anger
I am abominable, stress, Eliotic relentless
I’m a death sentence
For the beast and his henchmen
Politicians and big businessmen
I’m a teenage Palestinian
Opening fire at an Israeli checkpoint, point blank, check-mate, now what?!
I’m a rape victim with a gun cocked to his cock, cock BANG! Bangkok! Now what?!
I am sitting Bull with Colonel Custard’s scalp in my hands
I am Sincay with a slave trader’s blood on my hands
I am Jonathan Jackson and a gun to my man
I am David with a slingshot and a rock
And if David lived today, he’d have a Molotov cocktail and a Glock
So down with Goliath, I say down with Goliath

But we must learn, know, write, read
We must kick, bite, yell, scream
We must pray, fast, live, dream, fight, kill and die free!

UPDATE: Thanks to StaceyZ for a handful of transcription corrections.

Artist: Molly McGinn (MySpace | Blog)

I’m in a Molly frame of mind, so here’s a double-dose of local talent. Enjoy!

Song: Bad Jokes and Blues

Stand on one side and be criticized
It gives people something to say

They look back at you
Or down upon their shoes

While the show it moves
To another stage

Please don’t dull my eccentricities
Well, isn’t it what first attracted you to me?

Bad jokes and blues
Whiskey bars and booze
Guitars, moonshine in jars
Jumping on trampolines under the stars

Please don’t dull my eccentricities
Well, isn’t it what first attracted you to me?

Bad jokes and blues
Whiskey bars and booze
Guitars…

Please don’t dull my eccentricities…

==========

Song: Kill Devil Hills

Sunday morning
Wore my best
Rolled up blue jeans
And a green bucket hat

And the strings of my bikini
Are flapping on my back
As I peddled up a breeze
On that black top paved path

So I ride
Legs out wide
Almost took a tourist out on that last freestyle
And for the moment I’d forgotten even why I was there
And how I was hoping there was something for me up at the top of Kill Devil Hills

Around and around
Atop the mound
Where 1,000 failures lay in state in silence underground
As I circle around and try to memorize every word
I soon realize that I, I, I
Am completely done for.

Faster now
Passing trees
And the salty sun
Takes a morning washcloth over me
When I lick my lips
I can taste the ocean on the breeze
Baptized by the failures buried below
Kill Devil Hills

Round and round
Up the mound
Where 1,000 failures
lay in state in silence underground
As I circle around
and try to memorize every word
And thought of all the times
I’d pushed my faith to the edge and watched it burn
I soon realize that I, I, I
Am completely
Absolutely
Indubitably
Done for.

UPDATE: Okay, I’m getting a ton of search hits looking for the lyrics to this… song? So here it is. Don’t say I don’t love you:

Allo
Hello
Allo
You people all have hands
They are all normal hands
Five fingers
Und some hair
But mine are very bare
Do you know why?
Do you know why?
I’ll tell you why
I’ll tell you why

My hands are bananas
Your hands are bananas
My hands are bananas
Your hands are bananas

(Girls)
Frau Spots
Un Frau Stripes
Frau Spots
Un Frau Stripes
Frau Spots
Un Frau Stripes
Frau Spots
Un Frau Stripes and also Frau Spots

Ooooohhh
Ooooohhh
Ooooohhh

John has never had chili
No, no, never had chili
John has never had chili
Ever in his life

He doesn’t like chili

Doppelgänger
Doppelgänger
Doppel, doppel, doppelgänger

Keep the monkeys away from my hands
Keep the monkeys away from my hands
Keep the monkeys away from my hands
Keep the monkeys away from my hands
Keep the monkeys away from my hands
Keep the monkeys away from my hands

We are ze monkeys
We are ze monkeys
We are ze monkeys
We are ze monkeys

Eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs, sieben, acht

Now clap like this!
(clapping)
No, clap like this!
(clapping)

Beware ze Milky Pirate
Beware ze Milky Pirate
Beware ze Milky Pirate
Beware ze Milky Pirate
Beware ze Milky Pirate (buffalo)
Beware ze Milky Pirate (buffalo)

Circley square
Squarely circle
Circley square
Squarely circle

Do you want the banana?
(Girl) Uh-huh
Do you want the banana?
(Girl) Uh-huh

Okay

Artist: Clement D. Mallory (Greensboro out of Brooklyn)

Song: 10 Million Dollars

==========

1 million, 2 million, 3 million…
1 million, 2 million, 3 million 4 million, 5 million…
1 million, 2 million, 3 million 4 million, 5 million, 6 million, 7 million…
1 million, 2 million, 3 million 4 million, 5 million, 6 million, 7 million, 8 million, 9 million…
1 million, 2 million, 3 million 4 million, 5 million, 6 million, 7 million, 8 million, 9 million, 10 million dollars!
What will I do with 10 million dollars?!
With my first million, like Oprah, I’d have a show
And you know that Russel Simmons he would be on that Def Poetry, yo
With my second million, I would give it away like Bill Cosby
My charity would be me and my family
So I would know exactly where my money is going
Right back to my black community
With my third million I would build a school with free food
Just like George “The Iceman” Gervin
But it would be the Clement D. Mallory Foundation, in parenthesis (School of Poetry)
I would take my fourth million and invest it in my own damn stock
Like my clothing, my books and my CD’s would be all be making that Dow Jones money
Like non-stop
Them I’ma bank my whole fifth million
So all I’m doing is just chillin’ — livin’ off my interest
With my sixth million, like Jay-Z, Nelly and Puffy I would own a basketball team
But of course you know it would be a youth league
Cause in reality, in would cost me much more than a million to even be a part-owner of a NBA basketball team
3/4 of my seventh million would go into real estate
250 of that would be for land that I would smack
Right in-between all the Malcolm X’s and Martin Luther King Jr. streets
Cause they gain so much more than money
700 thousand of my eighth million
I would use to do what Mrs. Antella did, which is financing a magazine
But every one of my articles would strictly be on graffiti
That leftover 300 thousand would be doled for miscellaneous things
Like, maybe I might buy some jewelry
With my ninth million, my advertising power would go straight into commercials
It would be me and Spike Lee teaming up with Hype Williams to produce some of the hottest ever made videos
And with my tenth and final million, I think with half of that I would purchase a couple of laundromats
Cause quarters make dollars
With the other half, I would put on some Jerry Lewis type Walk-a-thon
And where ever I’d go, I’d have 500 thousand dollars for 500 thousand homeless people that ask for a dollar
Yeah that’s what I’d do with 10 million dollars
With 10 million dollars, I’d be the black Bill Gates
Stay up counting my money
Like 1 million, 2 million, 3 million 4 million, 5 million, 6 million, 7 million, 8 million, 9 million, 10 million, 10 million dollars!

every man has a vocal chord
but not every man has a voice
some choose to live life that way
others simply have no choice
with too much to think about
too much goin’ on
too much tryin’ to survive
too much watchin’ their own get gone
so what’s the worth of words
these mere utterances in time
these rearranged thoughts
in both rhythm and rhyme?
i’ll tell you their value
but you probably won’t hear me
being caught up in the matrix
you’ll just craft reason to fear me..

when i’m struggling to get by
and trying to fly
but instead i get high
and dance that fine line
it’s the words that come save me
like dry turkey in gravy
i flip back to my quest
and push along like scorsese
to craft a moment in time
script the next one to follow
not some hollow ass production
of bling pursuit do i wallow
in the mire i find the depths
the inspiration
the desire..

to live by the pursuit of the grade
A
performance bonus
A
white picket dream
A
life with no compassion
A
way to drown out the screams
the shit just ain’t for me
and i know i’m not alone
so pick up your pen
your pad
your phone
dial me into your realm
put on your friday night best
cause when we hit the streets
it’s all about the people
yes..

I’m changing up the format this week to introduce a song that might be buried in the subconsciousness of many of you out there; I know it was for me.

The backstory:

In 1969, Mister Rogers appeared before the United States Senate Subcommittee on Communications. His goal was to support funding for PBS and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, in response to significant proposed cuts. In about five minutes of testimony, Rogers spoke of the need for social and emotional education that public television provided. He passionately argued that alternative television programming like his Neighborhood helped encourage children to become happy and productive citizens, sometimes opposing less positive messages in media and in popular culture. He even recited the lyrics to one of his songs:

What do you do with the mad that you feel?
When you feel so mad you could bite?
When the whole wide world seems oh so wrong
And nothing you do seems very right
What do you do?
Do you punch a bag?
Do you pound some clay or some dough?
Do you round up friends for a game of tag?
Or see how fast you can go?
It’s great to be able to stop
When you’ve planned the thing that’s wrong
And be able to do something else instead
And think this song
I can stop when I want to
Can stop when I wish
Can stop, stop, stop anytime
And what a good feeling to feel like this
And know that the feeling is really mine
Know that there’s something deep inside
That helps us become what we can
For a girl can someday be a lady
And a boy can be someday a man

The chairman of the subcommittee, John O. Pastore, was not previously familiar with Rogers’ work, and was sometimes described as gruff and impatient. However, he reported that the testimony had given him goosebumps, and declared, “Looks like you just earned the $20 million.” The subsequent congressional appropriation, for 1971, increased PBS funding from $9 million to $22 million.

(via neatorama)

Artist: The Coup
Song: Heven Tonite

==========

[Chorus]
Preacher man wanna save my soul
Don’t nobody wanna save my life
People we done lost control
Let’s make heaven tonite
Preacher man wanna save my soul
Don’t nobody wanna save my life
People we done lost control
Let’s make heaven tonite

Now as I sleep may the oxygen inflate my lungs
May my arteries and heart oscillate as one
If police come may I awake escape and run
In the morning may I have the sake to scrape the funds
And if I take the plunge
May it be said that I wasn’t afraid to shake my tongue
Show the state was scum
Makin’ sure that the callin’ bell of fate was rung
Cuz if they could the would
And probly tried to
Rape the sun
Someone said that this is just my body
Wait for the Afterpary
Where ain’t no shut-off note
And every wallet there is knotty
Feet are on the asphalt
Dick in the dirt
This system take vickin’ to work
Listen alert
Check out the introvert
In the corner with the rip in her skirt
Stomach pains so she grippin’ her shirt
Ain’t never had dinner
So she know she ain’t gettin’ dessert
Don’t try to tell me it’s her mission to hurt
I got faith in the people and they power to fight
We gon make the struggle blossom
Like a flower to light
I know that we could take power tonight
Make ‘em cower from might
And get emergency clearance from the tower for flight
I ain’t sittin in your pews less you helpin’ me resist and refuse
Show me a list of your views
If you really love me
Help me tear this muthafucka up
Consider this my tithe for the offer cup

[Chorus]

I used to think about infinity
And how my memory is finna be
Invisibly slim in that vicinity
And though the stars are magnificent
Whisky and the midnight sky can make you feel insignificant
The revolution in this tune and verse
Is a bid for my love to touch the universe
Strugglin’ over wages and funds
Let the movement get contagious and run
Through the end when it’s gauges and guns
And if we win in the ages to come
We’ll have a chapter where the history pages are from
They won’t never know our name or face
But feel our soul in free food they taste
Feel our passion when they heat they house
When they got power on the streets
And the police don’t beat ‘em about
Let’s make health care centers on every block
Let’s give everybody homes and a garden plot
Let’s give all the schools books
Ten kids a class
And give ‘em truth for their pencils and pads
Retail clerk - "love ballads" where you place this song
Let’s make heaven right here
Just in case they wrong

[Chorus]