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Upbeats And Beatdowns

Old West
Where Zero Meets Fifteen
Cool Enough For You
Faking Life
Shut Up
Arnold, and Willis, and Mr. Drumond
I Feel Lucky
Beautiful America
Combat Chuck
Everywhere I Go
A Flowery Song
Third World Think Tank

Old West

Up until the middle of the 20th century, many Americans believed in the idea known as the "Manifest Destiny." It held that all of North America, from sea to shining sea, was rightfully the property of the U.S. and was given to us by God. Native Americans were unscrupulously thrown off their homelands and slaughtered in the name of Jesus. Horror stories of entire tribes being led through rivers while being baptized, just to be shot and scalped on the other side, rival those of the Spanish Inquisition.
Today, I see street corner preachers screaming at passers-by, while the amount of Neo-Nazi Hate crimes are escalating every day. All of this under a blanket name of "Christianity." Read Your Bible. Jesus never beat people or insulted them into believing in him. He spoke the truth And set an example by loving every man. We are called to follow his example. Remember the Massacres at Sand Creek and meeker. Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.

Some cowboys were a ridin', ridin'
on the range; The grass was
over grazed there, and spotted like
some mange; The buffalo were
dead there, the trees they all were
through, and if they saw some
Injuns, why they would kill them too.

West or bust, in God we trust,
"Let's rape, let's kill, let's steal"
We can almost justify, anything
we feel; I'm climbing up that
ladder, more brownie points for me
I'll work my way to Jesus
you wait and see.

Said one cowboy to another, "I
think it would be nice, if we could
take these injuns and convert them
all to Christ; See, they are all
disgusting, and bringing me great
pain, and if they don't believe me,
we'll put a bullet in their brains!"

I am always shoutin', when I go outside,
how people should repent now, or they're going to die.
My motives are all selfish,
I'm a cannon brimmed with powder.
If people don't believe me,
I just beat them and yell louder.


Where Zero Meets Fifteen

My car broke down in Arizona, have to
ride the bus again, at ten-o-clock on
Tuesday night, with thirteen cents and a
broken pen. I put my backpack on the
bench, tell two people I donít smoke,
see the cop across the street, he thinks
that I am selling dope, I could have
walked another block, to get away from
the scene. Why does it always come to
this, where zero meets fifteen?

And so I gave my thirteen cents, to the
man who peed his pants. He passes out
and falls on me, I watch my change fall
from his hand. I see the lady next to
me, holds her baby black blue.
The junkie gutter-punks keeps asking,
where I got my new tattoo. What does
it matter anyway, thirteen cents or all I
own? How can I ever save the world,
on cup-o-soup and student loans?

I want to try and save the world, but it
never goes that way.
God I donít know what to do, down at
Colfax and Broadway.

Now the man with no shoes on,
says I donít know how to play.
He says I fumble all the time.
He thinks that I am John Elway.
I put my face down in my hands,
water wells inside my eyes.
What do I have to give them?
Does it matter if I try?
I canít stand to see you suffer,
I try to intellectualize, a formula to end you pain,
it doesnít work, God knows Iíve tried.
Sometimes my cup is overfilled.
Sometimes Iím too afraid that Iím going to spill.


Cool Enough For You

What could this be, too much MTV?
Chalk another fad up for its fall into infamy.
Whatís in a standard if it changes all the time?
Youíre still having trouble in defining your own kind.
Need I remind you, we all knew you before,
you threw the rocks at the stage from your glass house on the floor?
Now I think youíre punk, just because itís in.
You found a foul mouth and a couple safety pins.

Got a peaceful feeling,
I donít want to fight no more.
Got a peaceful feeling,
I donít care if weíre punk, or ska, or hardcore,
enough for you, itís sad but true,
you can call us names till your face turns blue.
Our assurance comes from God, itís nothing new,
weíll never care Ďcause weíre never cool enough for you.

That smug look on your face,
your nose up in the air,
your patches say youíre open-minded,
but still you couldnít bear,
some punk thrown in with ska.
You said it wouldnít work.
Well you can take your Vespa home
Ďcause ska made you a jerk.
The purist turns a deaf ear.
Heís such an intellect,
Does he think his censorship is gaining our respect?
The raising of a fist, like a trigger of a gun.
Stop and see weíre all alike,
and we can dance as one.



A nation stands with heart in hand
To sing their anthem proudly
Voices raised to sing their praise
Of their hollow country
All this talk of freedom
And some talk of liberty
From your plastic podium
You try and convince me

I can't fall anymore
For some silver-tongued song
Your freedom isn't free
So let me say what freedom means to

I can's see red, white, and blue waving in the air
I don't hear the bombs bursting and I don't even care
I'm sorry for my lack of faith
I'm not the greatest patriot
If this is all their is to freedom I don't want it

I can't fall anymore
For some silver-tongued song
Your freedom isn't free
So let me say what freedom means to

Pushing us a drug that you call freedom and democracy
Promise us that selfishness is the means for happiness
I burned that bridge so long ago that I can hardly see
Anything but solace in what freedom means to me

I can't fall anymore
For some silver-tongued song
Freedom isn't free
So let me say what freedom means to

It cannot mean to serve ourselves
That doesn't mean a thing
It doesn't mean to give the license
To seek ourselves in anything
That would be slavery to ourselves it isn't free
Jesus Christ, the only thing that freedom means to me.


Faking Life

Through this mirrored image feeling
Was my head so oddly reeling
Not aware of floor or ceiling
Kneeling and crying out
All the past I'd spent denying
Watching others lose in trying
The time I wasted spent in crying
Where could truth be found?

Joy could not be found in money
Don't put your faith in somebody
Not in attempts to be funny
Life seems incomplete
Why doubt the life He offers
When all the world is not enough?
Who knows if we've got time
We cannot wait 'till it's too late

Searching for someone else to blame
Hoping I won't go insane
Selfish pride my only gain
Faking sanity
The charade said I was fine
Knowing riches would be mine
I chose to face the cross the sign
I gave my future up

Joy could not be found in money
Don't put your faith in somebody
Not in attempts to be funny
Life seems incomplete
Why doubt the life He offers
When all the world is not enough?
Who knows if we've got time
We cannot wait 'till it's too late.


Arnold, and Willis, and Mr. Drumond

Straight from the ghetto streets of Harlem,
came two brothers Willis and Arnold,
black goldfish swims in the bowl,
he's three feet high, four with the afro.
Stealing cookies from the jar,
droppin' water balloons on cars.
I hope Mrs.. Garret won't see,
just play sick for Mohammed Ali.
the Gooch is coming, to steal milk money.

Arnold, and Willis, and Mr. Drumond,
and don't forget Kimberly.
They just cancelled Dukes of Hazard,
Different Strokes is all I want to see.

Way up high in the penthouse apartment,
making us laugh its Willis and Arnold.
Mr. Drumond's got the dough,
they get to ride in a limo

Different Strokes, its almost time.
We just watch 'cause Kimberly's fine.
Half hour long it never fills us,
when he says, "What you talkin' 'bout Willis?".
Write the cable company,
different strokes all the time.

Mr. Drumond, a man of the means,
loves two black brothers,
they've only got the blue jeans.


Shut Up


I Feel Lucky

The air is so clear, the sky is so blue,
I know what you mean, I feel lucky too.
I found a dollar, it's like a dream.
I love this place, my Slurpee is so Green.

So much easier to think that we did this all ourselves,
so much easier to let our hearts do what they've felt.
To throw our chips up in the air,
and let the praise fall where it may.
I feel, I feel lucky.

It's a well know fact, our hearts are black.
A maze full of mice, a game of cosmic, dice,
a neverending quiz, is all you think this is.
A gaping black hole, all the glory that you stole.
(There's no such thing as luck.)



If I had a nickel for every single
time I've tried to classify the
populace around me with a
word, or a catchy phrase, I could
quit my job for good and play
Nintendo until my fingers ached.

Am I an idiot, too lazy to think twice?
I point the finger, but I can't take my own advice.
I put a name on something and ever since,
I've made an art of building my counterfeit intelligence.

Seemingly to me, I am
Straightening a world of cluttered
thoughts and a debris inside my head,
but I think instead of
prejudiced and I give people
names to make me feel safe.
How does it feel what does it take to make me understand?
If I could only walk a mile in the shoes of another man.
If I could look out through his eyes and know what
it means to bleed the same red blood that I do.

What is economic status, and tell me what is race?
who decides to Classified taxonomy of grace?
If one man gets less that another is it true,
that he is all that different,
that he is less than you?


Beautiful America

The man on the television said I need to drink this,
and sleep with that, in order to be cool.
And you know that I would do almost anything,
to be like that guy on TV.
I know that if I had just the right outfit
and a hairstyle that could be me.
Don't you know you can't be cool if you dress dumb,
I need to have that 'cause everybody's got one.

I think I'll start smoking,
that would make me intellectual,
that's what I've always wanted to be.
I need to lift weights,
that would make me more sexual,
and that would be good for me.

In America it's wonderful,
all you have to do is fake it.
Own anything you want,
all you have to do is take it.
Live for today,
don't think about tomorrow,
have a good time in America-Gomorrah.

What are you looking at,
you better not make me mad.
I'll drive by your house and
shoot your dog, and mom, and dad.
I don't need you or the Bible
or anything to tell me what is the law.
With a good enough lawyer I can do
anything in Beautiful America.

I want to be in America,
Okay for me in America,
everything's free in America,
for a small fee in America.


Combat Chuck

A real life superhero.
He's got the Holy Ghost.
He's either praising Jesus,
or he's making toast.
Ain't got no superpowers,
ain't got no giant brain,
but he would try and help you,
if he heard you call his name.
There's some kids there in some trouble,
need a Pepsi on the double.
then he shouts, not so quiet,
"Would you like regular or diet?"
Found a campsite for some kids,
by the stage is what he did.
People ask why he's so nice,
he wants to be like Jesus Christ.

Whenever you're in trouble,
whenever you're in need,
Combat Chuck will help you,
he nearly runs with speed.
he's on the ball to save the masses,
got some thick old horn-rimmed glasses.
his head is bald, he shaved it shiny.
Kicks the devil in his hiney.
People ask why he's so nice,
he wants to be like Jesus Christ.



Youíve got a cause now, I heard
You bragginí. Always the fastest
One on the bandwagon. So sit
Down and Iíll tell you, what Iím
Feeling, what I am feeling.
For a Lack of better words you are
Stealing, you are stealing,
all of my joy away from me.
What ever happened to our unity?

We cut ourselves, our own limbs we've severed.
It's time for us to pull together and stand, as one.
All eyes are turning towards the Son.
Drop your fists now, what you resent.
Let's not forget who we represent.
And fall to our knees in unity.

Another day now, another doctrine,
another monkey wrench in the system.
Some folks kneelin', some just listen,
some fallin' out of the pews from twistin'.
I don't care kinds, how you do it.
United we'll stand and we'll pull through it.
All were dead once. All enslaved.
Now pull together 'cause we've all been saved.

the only Jesus this world's gonna see,
is the Jesus in you and me.
So pick your cross up,
stop your swingin'.
Stop and look at the stink you're bringin'
to this body with your fighting,
you bust more more knuckles that the wrongs your righting.
What's important, is where we relate,
it's the meaning of the word


Everywhere I Go

I was wasting time
Oh so sure to find somebody who'll
Never go
How could I know
None I'd found was true
None could be but you
The only one love divine
My heart, my mind are yours

Everywhere I go I see your face through the crowd
Everywhere I go I hear your voice clear and loud
Everywhere I go you are the light that I seek
Everywhere I go you have found me

Where could my heart go
Where you wouldn't be
Where you wouldn't know to find me?
Far, far from here
Still you are near
Still you are near to me
And I see
I have seen you in the morning
In the guiding light you hold me
Closer than the air around me
You surround me always


A Flowery Song

Beautiful day, wonderful feeling, this reason to sing,
psalms meaning songs singing praises all day long.
Joy fills the weak, joy makes us strong.
Filled 'till we burst,
songs of praise to the God of the Universe.

Despite our selfish selves, despite all loss of hope,
despite our lack of faith, despite our stony hearts,
despite the waning moon,
despite the ebbing tide of how we
think this world should be.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow,
praise Him all creatures here below,
praise Him above ye heavenly host,
praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Gray rainy day, down in the mud for us.
Don't feel I can sing,
songs to the God in control of the seasons.
But what's good and bad, flow from the hands,
of the God with the perfect plan.
Filling us with joy, all of this will glorify.


Third World Think Tank

I walked into the room, and she was right there waiting.
Leaning up against the bar,
well she was perpertraitin'.
Slick as snot her spandex, and blacker than some coal,
she set her gaze upon my bootie, with disco in her soul.
So much for indecision, so quick did she decide,
the temptress with her doors open inviting me inside.
"I want to take you home with me", said the sparkle in her eye.
"I would like to honey, but I'm about to die."

I have got a time bomb, I strapped it to my chest.
When it blows I'm out of here,
you can have what's left.

The room got kind of quiet, and you could smell the fear.
I only heard the jukebox play "A Tear is in My Beer".
"So what's the verdict Mister? When's it gonna blow?"
I just winked at her and said, "Darlin' I don't know."
Time-bomb tickin' in the room, everybody goes someday,
blows so quick you better be, somewhere where it's safe.
Thin skinned thread-bare thinkin', now you're gonna die,
don't try to rock the jukebox, just kiss this world good-bye.
What's the deal, don't you feel, alone now in the silence?
Pushing up the daisies now,
there's better ways for you to diet.
Seeking after sucker wealth,
suckers feel what suckers dealt,
All your life you stuffed your face,
now you're dead I rest my case.
Got a story here to tell, so you better listen well.
some old lady in a church, got a nickel in her purse.
You were rich, she was poor.
You dropped some fifties on the floor.
She dropped her nickel with a clank,
she was thinkin' Third World Think Tank.

The Karaoke master, the drunkard, and the jerk,
ditch this sorry world and all its worth.
Keep your candle burning, waiting for the time,
ready to explode, the bomb is primed.