Subterranean Serfdom Blues

(4 pm. – promoted by ek hornbeck)


     Bankers in the basement,            

     Mixing up the medicine,

     I’m on the pavement,

     Thinking about the government.

     The pols in the empty suits,

     Acolytes of Abramoff,

     Say we got a deficit,

     Want to get it paid off.

     Look out kid,

     It’s something you did,

     God knows when,

     But you’re a parasite again.

     Better blink away the pepper spray,

     Duck back down the alley way,

     Your job creator master,

     To pay for his disaster,

     Wants ninety dollar bills,

     You only got ten.

     Obama comes fleet foot,

     Asking for our input,

     Talking ’bout transparency,

     Freedom and democracy,

     But taps our phones anyway,

     Get used to it, ’cause many say,

     They must watch us every day,

     Orders from the NSA.

     Look out kid.

     Look out, look out, look out.

Matt Taibbi . . .

Wall Street’s unprecedented reach and power have enabled it to turn all of America into a giant pump-and-dump scam, manipulating whole economic sectors for years at a time, moving the dice game as this or that market collapses, and all the time gorging itself on the unseen costs that are breaking families everywhere–high gas prices, rising consumer credit rates, half-eaten pension funds, mass layoffs, future taxes to pay off bailouts.

Look out kid,

Don’t matter what you did,

Be wary of the shadows,

What’s coming only God knows,

Better stay away from those,

With Limbaugh on their radios.

Waiting for their Fuhrer,

Stocking up at gun shows,

You don’t need a weatherman,

To know which way the wind blows.

The middle class got run over by a shock doctrine freight train, but the right wing psychos are blaming the victims, they want a strong leader, they want unlimited power, they want fascism, they always have, they always will, its so close now they can taste it.  

Get sick, get well,

Get banned from FDL,

What the hell, it’s hard to tell,

The network news from Orwell.

Protest, Occupy,

Hit the streets and testify,

Get jailed, post bail,

Voting’s been an epic fail.

Look out kid,

You’re gonna get hit,

Cause liars, haters,

Oil war invaders,

Hanging around the Capital,

Every one a corporate tool,

Looking for a new fool,

To toss onto their bonfire,

Of lawlessness and misrule.

Bob Herbert . . .

The wreckage from the recession and the nation’s mindlessly destructive policies in the years leading up to the recession are all around us.  State and local governments faced with fiscal nightmares are reducing services, cutting their work forces, hacking away at health and pension benefits, and there is more carnage to come.  These austerity measures are punishing the most vulnerable people, children, the sick, and the disabled. All we are good at is bulldozing money to the very wealthy.

Get a job, not a chance,

Yes we can meant no we can’t,

But get dressed, get blessed,

Make Barack a success,

Clap loud, be proud,

He killed Osama, what a gift,

Twenty years of schooling,

But there’s no work on the day shift.

Look out kid,

They keep it all hid,

On Wall Street and the Beltway,

They want to take it all the way,

To retroactive slavery,

And sell us all on eBay.

Yo . . . kid . . . what’s the haps?

Here’s the haps . . .

Just sayin’ . . .



Skip to comment form

  1. truly captures our reality!  

    BTW, OWS is, by no means, dead, lest people think they are.  These mostly young, innovative, intelligent souls are NOT inactive!  🙂

  2. by attending a dinner with Obama.  It was sort of a counter cultural let down but I like the updated lyrics.

    Example as to my cognitive dissonance thought pattern here.

    The cops have a 1950s era cop car parked out front of the police station.  It has been newly painted in a sort of revisionist history genre.  It says “911 emergency” on the rear quarterpanel.  So in the 1950s two things are evident.

    Dialing 911 did not exist and if you are old enough to know what a rear quarterpanel is then you should be old enough to get my drift.

    Shades of First Cavalry Apocalyptic marching song.

Comments have been disabled.