it could've been Manhattan on the day the market fell,
and it could've been a candy store in Kandahare as well
and she might have been a Muslim, but it's kind of hard to tell
when your body's ground to zero
and your skin's been fried to hell
so tell me it's a war to end all war, or don't tell me nothing
cos if this sacrifice is not for peace, it was not worth making
seems to me you did your best
to put your hand in the hornet's nest that bit you
just when it hit you
there's other people hurt as much as you
and grief is no excuse for what you do
high flyers at the corporations daisy cutting edge,
they hold each other's hands
and plummet from the window edge,
and the monitors have melted
on the coffee deal which meant
5 thousand farmers wondering
where their livelihood just went
America my family
the whole world feels your pain,
and before this war is over
you'll make sure we do again
even as the tower tumbled
on that fire-fighting team
we wondered who you'd barbecue
for puncturing your dream
I am not an Islamicist
religion's not my thing,
but they're friendlier than Christians
and I like the way they sing
and I want my sisters free
to burn the burqa if they choose,
not lie awake and calculate
what weight they need to lose
you're beautiful, big-hearted, in many ways you're free,
and you're smart enough to get the world how you want it to be
so it's hard for me to tell you what you shouldn't have to hear
your nation is that terrorist most human beings fear:
Nicaragua, El Salvador, Columbia and Nam,
Cambodia, Grenada, Chile and Afghanistan,
Palestinian and Iraqi, and some more you never knew,
united states of people who deserved as much as you
so tell me that you don't support this war
or don't tell me nothing
cos if this song of mine don't change your heart
it was not worth singing
but I believe you did your best, chasing life and happiness
never wondered, never guessed
how the news had been suppressed
of a never-ending killing fest
rip the kid from the mother's breast
shrapnel thru her daddy's chest
while we're all singing glory hallelujah!
I'm talking to ya: somebody made a killing in your name
so take your power back, or take the blame
and it could've been a candy store in Kandahare as well
and she might have been a Muslim, but it's kind of hard to tell
when your body's ground to zero
and your skin's been fried to hell
so tell me it's a war to end all war, or don't tell me nothing
cos if this sacrifice is not for peace, it was not worth making
seems to me you did your best
to put your hand in the hornet's nest that bit you
just when it hit you
there's other people hurt as much as you
and grief is no excuse for what you do
high flyers at the corporations daisy cutting edge,
they hold each other's hands
and plummet from the window edge,
and the monitors have melted
on the coffee deal which meant
5 thousand farmers wondering
where their livelihood just went
America my family
the whole world feels your pain,
and before this war is over
you'll make sure we do again
even as the tower tumbled
on that fire-fighting team
we wondered who you'd barbecue
for puncturing your dream
I am not an Islamicist
religion's not my thing,
but they're friendlier than Christians
and I like the way they sing
and I want my sisters free
to burn the burqa if they choose,
not lie awake and calculate
what weight they need to lose
you're beautiful, big-hearted, in many ways you're free,
and you're smart enough to get the world how you want it to be
so it's hard for me to tell you what you shouldn't have to hear
your nation is that terrorist most human beings fear:
Nicaragua, El Salvador, Columbia and Nam,
Cambodia, Grenada, Chile and Afghanistan,
Palestinian and Iraqi, and some more you never knew,
united states of people who deserved as much as you
so tell me that you don't support this war
or don't tell me nothing
cos if this song of mine don't change your heart
it was not worth singing
but I believe you did your best, chasing life and happiness
never wondered, never guessed
how the news had been suppressed
of a never-ending killing fest
rip the kid from the mother's breast
shrapnel thru her daddy's chest
while we're all singing glory hallelujah!
I'm talking to ya: somebody made a killing in your name
so take your power back, or take the blame
×
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written & produced by Theo Simon / Seize the Day
(previously unreleased)
© 2002 Theo Simon / Seize the Day