Identified as a trouble maker by the authorities since childhood, and resolved to live up to the description, Charles Carreon soon discovered that mischief is most effectively fomented through speech. Having mastered the art of flinging verbal pipe-bombs and molotov cocktails at an early age, he refined his skills by writing legal briefs and journalistic exposes, while developing a poetic style that meandered from the lyrical to the political. Journey with him into the dark caves of the human experience, illuminated by the torch of an outraged sense of injustice.
My Dad taught me something When I was young, He was gifted with a silver tongue He made me think that everything Lay within my grasp 'Cause I understood Why it pays to be good.
He always said Burn your bridges, my son Make no preparation for retreat Don't think about gettin' beat Just burn your bridges And you'll see There's only one road ahead And it's the one you make So burn your bridges Every one.
It's a terrifying leap That we make each day Through the gates of hell At least it seems that way All the signs are misleading I can't believe what I'm reading Somehow gotta make it pay Anyway
So I burn my bridges One more time Set out on the road that is mine Toward the smoke of bridges burning My mind will not be turning Yes I've burned my bridges One more time.
Some people worry they'll be dead someday I don't tend to think that way I've lost everything I ever had And hasn't really been all that bad The taste of the good old days Lingers on
I've never been of the world of men Probably had 'bout enough of them I could burn those bridges And feel fine. Yes I'll burn some bridges Anytime.
A stranger rode straight into town The fear was in his eyes He gulped a shot and then once more And said, “What I’d advise, Is saddle up and ride as hard and fast As you can ride – There’s Bush riders comin’ Bush riders outta control.”
He didn’t have to say it twice, A mob made for the door, The bartender yelled out, “Last call!” And I called out, “One more.” I had a winning poker hand And had been about to raise When my poker game was ended By the stranger’s maddened phrase –
Yippee-I-O Yippee-I-Ay Bush riders comin', Bush riders outta control.
I might not had a mentioned That I’m from Tennessee So I figured that I’d stick around And see what I could see. I’d seen some ruffians down south With snake-eyes in their souls So I figured I’d get a load of these Bush riders outta control.
The eastern sky turned dark as pitch As they moved toward the west When they hit the edge of town They didn’t stop for gas, Just shifted to a lower gear And yelled as they drove past, “We’re just the advance column, so watch out for your ass.”
And soon we saw what they had meant, It was a dreadful sight. An eclipse came down o’er the town And plunged it into night, And like a wounded animal A siren shrieked in fright. Then Cheney’s voice cried, “Open fire!” And they put out the lights.
The shooting went on all night long While Rumsfeld danced a jig Then out came Condoleezza Riding on a pig. And Cheney with his shotgun Shot friends and foes alike Then the most fearsome among them Stepped right up to the mike.
He had a folksy manner And a kind of Texas drawl He said, “We kicked old Saddam’s ass, And got ourselves a haul, So let’s just do some drinkin’ And all let down our hair, ‘Cause tomorrow when the sun comes up We’ll all be billionaires.”
From where I hid I still could see The clouds above his head, As if an older evil Had took his place instead, With swastikas and murder camps And instruments of dread, It blasted through the megaphones And straight into my head.
Yippee-I-O Yippee-I-Ay There's Bush riders comin', Bush riders outta control.
Then they raised up a gleaming cross To honor their own dead. The Chief swept off his cowboy hat And placed it on his chest. He said, “These boys have died for us And the values we hold best, Now send their parents letters And burn ‘em like the rest.”
When they broke camp there wasn’t much They hadn’t broke or stole. Just fire, wreckage, ruin And the smell of burning oil. ‘Cause underneath that Christian hide there lurks a demon soul, Who let the devils out of hell With just two words, “Let’s roll!”
Yippee-I-O Yippee-I-Ay Bush riders comin', Bush riders outta control. Yeah there's Bush riders comin', Bush riders outta control!
One more Monday morning in the USA Twenty thousand people lost their jobs today We’re payin’ mercenaries To fight some stupid war If it isn’t over oil, Then what the hell’s it for?
There’s a scary sound, There’s a gathering danger People talkin’ loud Voices raised in anger
And if ya turn on the radio, Whatta they say? They’re givin’ billionaire bankers bonus pay, They say ya can’t say no, It’s the American way,
So BUY AMERICAN DIE AMERICAN BUY AMERICAN, HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY!
One more Monday night in Afghanistan, Kids try to do their homework without hands There’s an enemy around here somewhere, We gotta draw a line in the sand, I wonder why they hate us? We’ve killed all that we can.
There’s a scary sound, There’s a gathering danger People talkin’ loud Voices raised in anger
And if ya turn on the Fox news What’s Hannity say? Ta win hearts and minds, Ya gotta blow ‘em away, As long as ratings go up, It’s a perfect war, So hand me that flag, I’ll show what it’s for,
Go BUY AMERICAN DIE AMERICAN BUY AMERICAN, HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY!
Military preparations never cease Congress meets the generals on bended knee They offer them our nation With heartfelt gratitude, But they couldn’t protect the Pentagon From a fuckin’ missile, Dude!
The masses getting rude Our schools are total failures Our people have no pride We live in tents and trailers
And in the grocery line The magazines say You can lose ten pounds in fifteen ways Bin Laden seen with Elvis in Paris France Brad’s kicked out, Angelina wears the pants,
So BUY AMERICAN DIE AMERICAN BUY AMERICAN, HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY!
Rich Brand Condensed: Tits and Rice, Homestyle Recipe -- Soup (The Enlightened Cannibal Series, by Tara Carreon)
Lately I've been thinking how much I miss my lady Condoleezza's in the West Wing brightening the daybreak Living with a lust for power, running through the grass for hours Rolling in your Hum-vee like an army-child
And when it rains oil dollars down Washington's a cattle town And she's far away somewhere with Colin Powell out-of-town And she screens my corporate schemes Protects me from those wild dreams when we swelled Like Corporations fit to burst upon each other
I can see you by the window, planning first strikes in the evening The fruit juice flowing slowly, slowly, slowly Down the bronze of your bombshells Stokin ' up my lust for power, bombing old Baghdad, oh for hours, Flyin' your Apache like an army-child
Oh if only we could nestle in that hangout back in Saudi My arms around your shoulders, the Bin Ladens laughin' and jokin' While the smart bombs and the children are playing in the valley Oh I miss you Condoleezza like a banker miss his money
Lately I've been thinking how much I miss my lady Condoleezza's sowing minefields and clearin' out the terror Living like a lusty flower, bombin' ole Saddam, oh for hours, Rolling through old Baghdad like an army-child Rolling in my Hum-vee with my puppy-child.
Dazbidanya, Amerikanski Adios, Americano Au revoir, Americain Sayonara, GI Joe
Our influence is waning All around the globe. We're lead by blood-drenched killers In sanctimonious robes, Claiming freedom from all laws Of decency and justice Like homicidal maniacs With doomsday as their plan.
So Dazbidanya, Amerikanski Adios, Americano Au revoir, Americain Sayonara, GI Joe
The dollar is a millstone About the world's neck And the atoms we've been splitting Have got loose from their nets. We sell administration Of the wealth our fathers stole, And we'd melt down our grandma To increase our stock of gold.
So Dazbidanya, Amerikanski Adios, Americano Au revoir, Americain Sayonara, GI Joe
Each one of us consumes ten times Our share of the world's wealth And now we have designs in play To get the rest by stealth. You can claim you're not part of it, That you are not to blame, But while you keep your silence Soldiers murder in our names.
So Dazbidanya, Amerikanski Sayonara, GI Joe, You're no longer the world's policeman, Take your guns, and go on home.
Why do they hate us? They like to ask. Why did they hate the Ku Klux Klan? Why did they hate the fascist soldiers Who drove the murder vans? Why did they hate cold hearted bastards Who murdered children with their own hands?
So Dazbidanya, Amerikanski Sayonara, GI Joe, You're no longer the world's whoremaster, Take your guns, and go on home.
It’s a 24-hour trading day Stack it up high And haul it all away I got a money machine And it works just fine It grabs everybody’s money And turns it into mine.
Cause we’re doing God’s work We're doin’ God’s work We're doin’ God’s work That’s what the Goldman said
Now Congress is my boy I keep him by my side They listen when I talk And when I yell, they hide I said I’m feelin’ woozy They said, “What can we do?” “Gimme $700 Billion and I think we'll pull through”
Cause we’re doing God’s work Doin’ God’s work Doin’ God’s work That’s what the Goldman said
Some people say that money’s like a clock Runs slow when you work And fast when you shop Then I’m the watchmaker And they run like I say I’ll turn Sunday into Monday And midnite into day
Cause we’re doing God’s work We're doin’ God’s work We're doin’ God’s work That’s what the Goldman said
When I lay odds it’s not really a bet Tails is what you lose And heads is what I get But ya can’t write words Without the alphabet And if you’re runnin’ short of money I can give you debt
Because we’re doing God’s work Doin’ God’s work Doin’ God’s work That’s what the Goldman said
Might it be possibly Worth a try to govern Ourselves peaceably, following At least the 6th Commandment my friends? Just resolve not to kill anybody Plan ahead so when someone Says to kill someone else You ask why they don’t do the Same to themselves and rid The earth of their wasted girth. Just resolve you won’t Kill nobody’s brother, sister, Father or mother, write it down Just like I did, teach it To your little kid, Don’t kill nobody! Don’t make it complicated It’s totally underrated Peace is an option if you Have a plan. You can trust The next guy as far as he Trusts you, and it’s always Great when no one pulls a gun. Violence is bullshit, so chicks Don’t fuck a guy who Thinks it’s cool to kill Somebody’s kid. Why reproduce That killer seed? Find a Nice guy and do the deed, It’s nice to know he Didn’t kill nobody! Don’t kill nobody! Don’t kill nobody! You never know When someone might kill you! You wouldn’t have too Much to say, having just Been blown away, But if you could I bet You’d say, Don’t kill nobody! Don’t kill nobody! Don’t kill nobody!
In a world full of woe and trouble There’s just no place to stand. We worship at the House of Mammon All over this Promised Land
We walk our dogs and wash our cars Sip latte from a cup Read about the people our bombs are killin’ We just can’t give it up.
There’s gotta be a way To a better day But I just ain’t found it yet Put a message in a bottle but it ain’t come back, so Don’t let it get you down, no Don’t let it get you down.
Yeah in the world that our fathers wounded We’re standin’ with empty hands We took all the good times for ourselves And made other people’s plans
We sooted up the skies with our lies Plugged the rivers with our wasted dreams Killed women, children, men like flies, Cause they stood in the way of our schemes
Yeah they’re flying the flag of the USA All over this bloody ground But cheap gasoline is on the way So don’t let it get you down, boy Don’t let it get you down.
Yeah everybody’s got a piece of the plot You can cash it on demand Our money’s plastic, that’s fantastic, Spend all that you can!
While huddled masses yearn to breathe We tighten up the coil Extract the wealth, abuse their health Some blood must flow with oil
Yeah they’re cursing the name Of the USA all over this tortured earth But it’s still a place of sacred birth, So don’t let it get you down, no, Don’t let it get you down.
So saddle up now, time to roll Into the desert sands That Wolfowitz sure had some balls, And Rumsfeld is the man,
The Chief’s the best that could be found Amid piles of skull and bones And Condi’s here, so please wait, dear While Karl gets the phones
If these clowns aren’t yours Then whose are they, and who Said they could stay? Votes don’t mean nothin’, but a gun’s still somethin’ So don’t let it get you down, no Don’t let it get you down.
I'm the pterodactyl killa' From the City of Tucson Ya' mess with me baby, Come and get it on. There's never been a fight that I backed away from, So next time remember, Don't mess with my Mom.
You make fun of my name, The noble Carreon, We came here with Cortez, And our legacy lives on. The battles that we fight Are the ones that must be fought. When the smoke clears, Matt, Your army will be gone. Next time remember, Don't mess with my Mom.
Your allies are the fools Who cut and paste all day. They think they're important, But their anger is impotent. They say nasty things, But they don't get paid. Their ignorance is deep, So ya' get 'em on the cheap.
Your humor's scatological, Your mind is pathological. Did someone drop you on your head, When you were in your baby-bed? Did they take away your rattle, And teach you how to tattle?
Whatever the reason, You have committed treason Against decency and sanity, You're offensive to humanity.
But never fear -- I'm here to liberate you. There's no chinks in my armor, So I don't have to hate you. I raise up the sword That vanquishes disorder I place you without passion In the matter transporter.
You see, winged reptiles aren't needed here. What we need is thoughtful people Who are decent and sincere.
So get behind me, Satan! You're just a bit of roadkill, Like the thief of Sex.Com, Just another fool, Who thought he was the bomb. Next time, Mr. Inman, Don't talk about my Mom.
EVERYBODY WANTS TO BE LIKE PARIS HILTON, by Charles Carreon
Who's useless? And clueless? An accidental nudist With a smile perfect for TV?
Who's famous? Who's gorgeous? An ego that's enormous Whose shoes are trimmed with purple mink?
Everybody wants to look like Paris Hilton So it could be anybody, Just like you are nobody, 'Cause today is just another day, and Hey! They're towing your car away Yeah, they're towing your car away.
On TV, we see them, Dressed up in crazy clothing Then we all wanna do the same
We're boring, we're stupid, And no one wants to see us-- I hate my stupid name
If only we could all be like Paris Hilton, Free to charge it and take it away If only I could be like Paris Hilton I'd fly to Hollywood and there I'd permanently stay. But everybody wants to be like Paris Hilton Where it's always recess and time to play Because when your name is Paris Hilton Every day is a beautiful day.
Who's useless? And clueless? An accidental nudist With a smile perfect for TV?
You don’t believe in evolution You think it messes with your soul You want a spiritual solution That gives the President control And as for stuff like Revolution Better keep that shit down in the hole
Yeah, old Jehovah drives a Caddy He keeps the Devil in the trunk They drive all over hell and Vegas Playing shows and getting drunk They do some massive entertaining No time for scientific junk.
The Holy Spirit’s like Big Pharma Creating custom DNA So an immaculate conception Was nothing more than child’s play As for the vaunted resurrection That was a clone we packed away
Now science fiction makes it easy Mix truth and fantasy and luck Combining television shaker With ice and soda shake it up. Serve to an ignorant population They’ll drink it down and then shut up.
You don’t believe in evolution You think it messes with your soul You want a spiritual solution That gives the President control And as for stuff like Revolution Better keep that shit down in the hole
