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The Star Spangled Banner
by Francis Scott Key
Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
On the shore dimly seen thro' the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner: O, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash'd out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
O, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand,
Between their lov'd homes and the war's desolation;
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land
Praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserv'd us as a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust";
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
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Mr. Big Pig
by Country Joe McDonald and the Fish
Mr. Big Pig, he thought he was tough,
He learned how to swear, you know that he learned how to curse.
He got himself a gun and he learned how to shoot,
He even got a gas mask and put it on his snoot.
With his gun and his club hanging by his side
You know that he thought he was the meanest -huh- pig alive.
With his gloves on his hands and his boots on his feet
He thought he was the coolest pig on the streets.
Hey, you don't have to be a man to beat a man,
You don't have to be a man to beat a man.
Aw come on, play it for me now.
Hey! You know what I'm talkin' about,
I'm talkin' about Mr. Pig, the man.
Mr. Big Pig, he likes to be safe,
You know that he always begs for tear-gas and a little bit of mace.
He loves his leather gloves, his bullet-proof vest,
His great Big Pig badge pinned to his chest.
With all his equipment, he feels pretty big,
But it takes more than clothes to make more than a pig —
Shotguns, squad cars, walky-talkies, too,
Mr. Big Pig, you just look like a fool.
Hey, you don't have to be a man to beat a man.
C'mon, you don't have to be a man to beat a man.
Ah, come on, let's rock on now.
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Daylight Again / Find the Cost of Freedom
by Stephen Stills (CROSBY, STILLS, AND NASH)
Daylight again, following me to bed
I think about a hundred years ago, how my fathers bled
I think I see a valley, covered with bones in blue
All the brave soldiers that cannot get older been askin' after you
Hear the past a callin', from Armegeddon's side
When everyone's talkin' and noone is listenin', how can we decide?
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Find the cost of freedom, buried in the ground
Mother earth will swallow you, lay your body down
Find the cost of freedom, buried in the ground
Mother earth will swallow you, lay your body down
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Ohio
by Neil Young (CROSBY, STILLS, NASH, & YOUNG)
Tin soldiers and Nixon coming,
We're finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drumming,
Four dead in Ohio.
Gotta get down to it
Soldiers are gunning us down
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her
And found her dead on the ground
How can you run when you know?
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American Skin / 41 Shots
by Bruce Springsteen
41 shots [x7]
41 shots and we'll take that ride
41 shots [x3]
Lena gets her son ready for school
She says now on these streets Charles
You got to understand the rules
Promise me if an officer stops you'll allways be polite
Never ever run away and promise momma you'll keep your hands in sight
Cause is it a gun?
Is it a knife?
Is it a wallet?
This is your life
It ain't no secret
It ain't no secret
The secret my friend
You can get killed just for living in your American skin
41 shots [x3]
Across this bloody river to the other side
41 shots they cut through the night
You're kneeling over his body in the vestibule
Praying for his life
Is it a gun?
Is it a knife?
Is it a wallet?
This is your life
It ain't no secret
It ain't no secret
Ain't no secret my friend
You can get killed just for living in your American skin
41 shots [x3]
Lena gets her son ready for school
She says now on these streets Charles
You got to understand the rules
Promise me if an officer stops you'll always be polite
Never ever run away and promise momma you'll keep your hands in sight
Cause is it a gun?
Is it a knife?
Is it a wallet?
This is your life
It ain't no secretn get killed just for living in your American skin
41 shots [x3]
Is it a gun?
Is it a knife?
Is it a wallet?
This is your life
It ain't no secret
It ain't no secret
It ain't no secret
41 shots and we'll take that ride
Across this bloody river to the other side
41 shots my boots caked in mud
We're baptized in these waters and in each other's blood
It ain't no secretIs it a knife?
Is it a wallet?
This is your life
It ain't no secret
It ain't no secret
The secret my friend
You can get killed just for living in
You can get killed just for living in
You can get killed just for living in your American skin
41 shots [x7]
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L.A.P.D.
by OFFSPRING
When cops are taking care of business I can understand
But the L.A. story's gone way out of hand
Their acts of aggression, they say they're justified
But it seems an obsession has started from the inside
They're shooting anyone who even tries to run
They're shooting little kids with toy guns
Take it to a jury but they don't give a damn
Because the one who tells the truth is always the policeman
CHORUS
Beat all the niggers
Beat whoever you see
Don't need a reason
(We're) L.A.P.D.
The city of L.A. feels like a prison
With helicopters overhead and bullets whizzing by
Martial law ain't no solution
Police brutality's just social pollution
Beat all the white trash
Beat whoever you see
Don't need a reason
(We're) L.A.P.D.
They say they're keeping the peace
But I'm not buying it because a billy club ain't much of a pacifier
"Protecting your freedom"
Now that's just a lie
It's an excuse for power that's more like an alibi
Law and order doesn't really matter
When you're the one getting bruised and battered
You take it to a jury, they'll throw it in your face
Because justice in L.A. comes in a can of mace