8/27/2007, 12:16 am
Greetings Komrades, from Down Under, where we yearn for the fascist dictator John HoWARd to be overthrown by the revolution in November (elections). Our new hope Kevin Ruddy isn't the ideal pin up for the Socialist movement (he speaks way too nicely for a working class struggle representative) but he's the best we've got.
Unless of course, the Oz-strayun people come to their senses and elect me, Beezelbob Brown, leader of the Green Revolution, as King of Stray-ya.
Where was I? Oh yes, since irrelevance is an acceptable practice for our ilk I want to post something in this thread which has absolutely nothing to do with the thread's article on the Iraqi President thingy (see above). Besides, we don't talk about the Iraq thing in Stray-ya. We prefer to talk about more important things like how to stop people having electricity or disposing of irrelevant unborn humans or how to allow people to marry animals.
Where was I? Oh yes, I recently heard a wonderful song by Party approved Pop Queen Pink. Working class in Stray-ya, much like Amerikka, revere creative arts people simply because they're on TV. Therefore anything they say must be truth. Pink's song "Dear Mr. President" is a classic piece of revolutionary, anti-Bush/Capitalist thought, penned by an authoritative, credible, well-adjusted, informed, creative arts hero.
I was wondering if any of the gifted komrades from The People's Cube have done or will attempt to create their own lyrics to this marvellous song? I have tried but failed, partly because I have no talent whatsoever but also because the song doesn't seem to have any rhythmic, melodic flow, any coherence, or indeed any recognisable musical structure to it at all. Which doesn't matter because musical coherence and structure is a bourgeois koncept and the lyrics are too magical for it to matter.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QqCLVhu5UwE
Here are the real lyrics if you need them:
Come take a walk with me.
Let's pretend we're just two people and
You're not better than me.
I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly.
What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?
Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?
What do you feel when you look in the mirror?
Are you proud?
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye
And tell me why?
Dear Mr. President,
Were you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
How can you say
No child is left behind?
We're not dumb and we're not blind.
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell.
What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye?
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Minimum wage with a baby on the way
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Building a bed out of a cardboard box
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
You don't know nothing 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
Oh
How do you sleep at night?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Dear Mr. President,
You'd never take a walk with me.
Would you?
=sniff, sob= where would we be without the kreative arts?? We wouldn't be able to think at all!! You go girl, you tell big bad bully Bush how he's never worked a day in his life, unlike you of course. You got unwantedly pregnant to several record company execs to get where you are and bullies like Bush want to stop you from getting rid of the unwanted fetuseseses! Testify!!!!!!
Excuse me, I'm too moved to talk.
Please feel free to post this in a more appropriate thread, as long as you bear in mind my inability to deal with authority.
Beezelbob
