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Freedom Fries
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While the empires (junior and senior) quibble about the menu, Iraq burns.
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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 #123
Peak in subgenre #29
Author
Fred Stanton
Rights
Copyright © 2004 by Fred Stanton
Uploaded
May 28, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.9 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Story behind the song
The Iraq war. It was rumored, after the U.S. Congress changed the French fries on their menu to "Freedom Fries," that the French government was retaliating by changing American cheese to "Idiot Cheese."
Lyrics
In the hallowed halls of Congress, at the Fat Cat Luncheonette, They’ve been scarfing down the French fries since the days of Lafayette. Now the brie is in the dumpster, Cabernet is down the sewers, And we do not call them French fries ’cause the French are evil-doers. Chorus: Have some Freedom Fries, full of good old American lard. They’re guaranteed to raise your flag and turn your arteries hard. All you really need is Freedom Fries. What have the hapless Frenchies done to draw the empire’s ire? They made a deal for Iraqi oil to fuel their French fry fryers. They dragged their feet on the road to war and now they’ll pay the price. French food is off the table, the ultimate sacrifice. (Chorus) Now a patriotic potato-head can eat red, white, and blue. Freedom Fries, they slide right down, you hardly have to chew. With chili, ketchup, and Cheez Wiz, we’ll kick ’em up a notch, And I recommend you wash ’em down with a fine American Scotch. (Chorus) When your kid’s in jail and you pension fails and your job has gone to crap, Your congressman still shakes your hand, “You want Freedom Fries with that?” On the day of liberation, as we dance on Baghdad streets, Some homeless, happy Iraqi asks you, “What would Jesus eat?” Bamn, will come the answer, it’s a pork-fat potato prize, I know you won’t say no sir, You’re my friend or you’re my foe, sir, I don’t care if you are kosher, you will love these Freedom Fries. (Chorus)
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