A protest song concerning the use of combative games to inculcate in our children acceptance of war
Richard Dieker: A singer/guitarist in the pop, country and folk tradition. My roots are in folk/country, my word picture songs are self-reflective, and Don Qu
I AM A SINGER/GUITARIST, PLAYING POP, COUNTRY, AND FOLK MUSIC. COVERS INCLUDE SONGS BY JOHNNY CASH, BOB DYLAN, WILLIE NELSON, GORDON LIGHTFOOT, JIMMY BUFFETT, MERLE HAGGARD, AND MANY OTHERS. MY ORIGINAL SONGS,WHICH RANGE FROM SELF-REFLECTIVE SONGS TO PROTEST SONGS, WILL BE POSTED ON THIS WEB SITE.
Story behind the song
Observing the fervor of fans at football games, and the senseless brutality in moving a pigskin from one end of the field to the other, caused me to reflect on the violent culture in which we live and how these games inculcate and reinforce a war mentality in our youth. Today, we accept casualities on the battlefield just as we accept injuries, and sometimes death, on the playing field. We not only accept it, but worship the war-game aspects of our culture, and become blind to the truth of the so-called "game".
Lyrics
War Games
Richard Dieker
Star-spangled banners fill the air,
While coaches lead their boys in prayer,
And then with God-blessed set of mind,
Charge on the field to stomp and grind
Their enemies--they never ask,
why on their face they need a mask,
Or why it’s good to hurt and maim,
They shoot a gun to end the game….
Now they have their helmets on again,
To pay the price it takes to win,
A God-blessed war that they must fight;
their sergeant-coaches taught them right,
The training shows in every breath--
A poor boy's life, a hero’s death,
Yes we have trained our youngsters well,
Then sent them off like pawns to hell.
We anxiously await the score,
Or body count in times of war,
And sell our values for the thrill -
of watching war-games, bleachers fill,
With sanguinary, searching eyes,
In faces flushed and minds unwise,
To values we cannot transcend,
Unable yet to comprehend,
The conflict that is just the same,
As war--and yet it’s just a game,
Let’s cheer the grunting warriors on,
Our highest values now are gone…
And those who cheer the loudest pray,
For peace they hope will come some day,
And blind to violence and gore,
Shout death to those against the war
As hunters talk of love of life,
While reaching for the dressing knife
Yes, fight we must to save our shore,
But we must never love the war.
We teach these war-games to our youth,
And from them come a simple truth,
Deny the cancer, let it grow,
Accept the coffins row on row,
Deny the pain that tears the mind,
Accept the lies that make us blind,
Deny the caring words that bind,
And leave all hope of peace .... behind.
Star-spangled banners fill the air,
While coaches lead their boys in prayer,
And then with God-blessed set of mind,
Charge on the field to stomp and grind
Their enemies--they never ask,
why on their face they need a mask,
Or why it’s good to hurt and maim,
They shoot a gun to end . . . the game….
