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Dangerous Dreams
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Inspired by events in Gaza.
Political/personal songs since the 1960s -- killer ballads, working-class anthems, political satire. Fred's twelve-string guitar can be anything from a blues ba
Fred Stanton’s songs (along with his lumberjack voice and jumbo 12-string guitar) embody the political folk-singing tradition. Fred has been an industrial worker (a welder of oilfield equipment; an electronic assembler; and a railroad electrician, hostler and brakeperson) as well as a political organizer and union activist. This life is at the heart of his songsmoving, personal ballads, rollicking satires, and working-class anthems. Fred has been singing in concerts, union rallies and political protests since the 1960s. His union songs celebrate the struggles of strikers at Peabody Coal, poultry processing workers in North Carolina, and strawberry pickers in California. And his "Singing Cars," a Bronx salute to car alarms, has been featured on NPR’s "Car Talk" show. Newest songs include “Five-Dollar Coal,” which is the story of miners in Utah fighting for a union.
Song Info
Charts
Peak #776
Peak in subgenre #146
Author
Fred Stanton
Rights
Copyright © 2002 by Fred Stanton
Uploaded
May 10, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.1 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Story behind the song
New York Times magazine couldn't understand why Palestinian children do what they do.
Lyrics
Dangerous Dreams Ahmed is sleeping, Ahmed is dreaming, Dreaming of a home he has never seen, Where the soil is rich, for growing olives, Olives and flowers, and the air is clean. Hurry up, Ahmed, eat your porridge. The smell of porridge, freshly made. Ahmed’s schoolbag is hanging heavy, With the brass and copper that schoolboys trade. Chorus: Teargas shells and bullet cases Become an oasis, a tower, a stream, Dangerous, dangerous dreams. He’s a dream-eyed boy in this place called Beach Camp, No beach, just garbage, and dust on your clothes. Concrete boxes for a million people, A million people who can’t go home. Ahmed cuts school and heads for the crossroads, The desert crossroads, the barbed-wire line, Where tanks and soldiers guard handfuls of settlers From the rock-throwing children of Palestine. (Chorus) Ahmed can’t hear this bullet coming, Only the music the future will bring, When Jews and Arabs can dance on this desert And no one will dictate the songs they sing. Who needs this army, this army of Zion? Who needs to build this killing machine? Steel-studded borders, cold-blooded orders— Who’s afraid of children with dangerous dreams? (Chorus)
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