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Pray for the Dead & Fight Like Hell for the Living
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politics marijuana cannabis antiwar political iraq media social struggle israel cuba pirates environment labor afghanistan empire imperialism capitalism terrorism activism bullying bullies ecoterrorism guerrilla gardening irish hunger strike oil leaks oil spills social change
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"If the great Phil Ochs were to rise from the dead today, he would probably be hailed as the new David Rovics." Andy Kershaw, BBC
Song Info
Genre
Acoustic • Acoustic Folk
Charts
Peak #113
Peak in subgenre #13
Author
David Rovics
Rights
David Rovics 2000 All Rights Reserved
Uploaded
June 16, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 13.9 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
They bombed Philadelphia, killed women and children and men It's an old story, we see it again and again Shot into houses while people burned inside So many have fought and so many good people have died They murdered and put MOVE in prison -- now they're bringing more forces to bear Are we gonna let them strap Mumia to the electric chair? Or... Will we pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living Stand up on our feet or die in slavery Is there somebody here whose live is not worth giving? Who's it gonna be if it isn't you and me? They killed Crazy Horse, drove his people onto the reserve Killed children and buffalo, some lower power to serve The people starved and they died behind the impassable wall In tipis and churches, even ghost dancers would fall Now from Ecuador to Big Mountain, relocation is rearing it's head Will we turn our backs or recall what the good woman said? Chorus They poisoned the water, poisoned the air and the earth Who here believes that the dollar is all that our planet is worth They cut down the forests, cut down the mountains and anything else they could take What a cynical greed to do business, knowing all life is at stake Now as they destroy all that remains, who here will part with the last Will we raise our voice to the madness -- rise up, lock down, stand fast? Chorus From Manilla to Managua, how many have died in our names From Santiago to Santo Domingo, it is a murderous game From Baghdad to Belgrade, mass murder from ten thousand feet But from Hanoi to Havana, there is talk of the tiger's defeat Will we wait for the next time, to kill kids on some far-away shore Or will we throw a wrench in the gears as we shout, "no mas, no more" Chorus
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