Recorded and produced by Drew Taylor in Morristown, TN in fall 2008. All instruments and vocals by Brett DuBose, except keyboard by Drew Taylor.
alternativerockacousticsingersongwriter
It's about my frustrations with the Bush administration with the lack of relief given to people of New Orleans in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina and my frustrations with the war in the Middle East.
Lyrics
He’s walking on a trail on the Forth of July,
With his train wreck delusions passing him by,
He’s impatient every instant every place he’s ready to leave.
With his fists in the air in the land of the free.
He stirs every conversation with nothing to say
Like a cave man living in his genetic memory.
He’s a victim to the voice lying deep inside his mind;
it sounds something like a train off its tracks in the night.
Coughing like a sailor and living like a new born king;
He’s been knocked him down, but he’s not been deceived.
But he plays his violin like a man by an Irish spring.
With his fists in the air in the land of the free.
A hurricane’s crashing down south in New Orleans.
We fix the oil rigs, but we scratch the plan to help those in need!
Like a third world land, Euthanasia becomes for some a relief.
With their fists in the air in the land of the free.
Fists in the air in the land of the free.
Today a car full of bombs took nine more that we sent overseas.
Five years of profit, and no one to stop the money machine.
Once a wise man said, “Freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength, and war is peace.”
Fists in the air in the land of the free.
Fists in the air in the land of the free.
