(We Are a) SUPERPOWER

How many innocent people must suffer and be killed;
How many lost and wasted lives ?
How many wars, how much blood must still be spilled,
Before we wake up and open our eyes ?
How much of this planet must be ravaged and destroyed,
How many different species sacrificed ?
How many left sick, hungry, homeless and unemployed,
Before we take up the battle cry ?

Well February fifteenth showed us the way;
The sleeping giant awoke.
Fifteen million stood  together that day;
with one voice we spoke.
A sea of reason and sanity, a giant wave of humanity,
A force on a course to be reckoned by the powers that be - A SUPERPOWER !

How many cities and towns must go down in bankruptcy;
How many trillions must we be in debt ?
How many billions must be enslaved in poverty,
Till we're more than just a little bit upset ?
How much worse can we treat this mother earth,
How much of her worth will be used up ?
How much shit will we take before we break
The silence and say 'enough is enough?'

[Chorus] Well February fifteenth pointed the way;
A sleeping giant awoke.
Tens of millions stood together that day;
With one voice we spoke.
A raging sea of solidarity,
A tidal wave of humanity,
A force to be reckoned by the weapons of the powers that be - A SUPERPOWER !

Words & music by: C. Michael Stout, July, 2003

Not In Our Name

A child steps on a land mine;
Loses a leg for a lifetime;
They don't call it a crime, just collateral damage.
Bombs and stray bullets fly;
So many innocent civilians die;
And if you ask why, they call you unpatriotic.
The 'powers-that-be' say, it's the price we must pay
For our freedom and democracy.
But when you read between the lines, I think you will find
It has nothing to do with you and me; (Absolutely Nothing !)

Thousands detained and disappear;
What they did wrong  is never made clear.
And when you're blinded by fear, you never ask questions.
Like a thief in the night,
They're stealing away our most precious rights.
With no end in sight to all this regression.
Wrapped in the flag, the warmongers brag
"It's our manifest destiny."
But strip away the guise, of their distortions and lies,
They aren't doing this for you and me.

[CHORUS] I'll not be party to their murderous game,
Not with my body, my soul or my brain.
Stand up with me and claim -
Not in our Name, Not in my country's Name;
Not in America's Name.  Not in God or Allah's Name
NOT IN OUR NAME !

While the death squads torture and kill,
They hope we keep silent and just pay the bill;
Stay complacent and still, while they unleash the beast.
Hundreds of billions for war,
They don't even bother to tell us what most of it is for.
One thing's for sure, it ain't buying us peace.
The warmonger barks, the bullets are marks
For our safety and security.
But look behind the door, you'll see this war is no cure
For what's ailing you and me.
[Chorus]
Words & Music by: Mike Stout, January, 2003

PEOPLE TO PEOPLE

So much beauty will blaze;
We will finally have come of age.
So much knowledge will flow, and boundaries be lost.
So many friendships will come;
Animosities will be undone.
So much trust  will grow, when borders are crossed.

People to people, let us begin (and)
People to people, give me your hand.
People to People, we must be friends (and)
band together again !

So many places to go;
So many faces to get to know.
So many lessons to learn, when we open the doors.
Such peace and love will appear;
So much music we'll make and hear.
So many pages will turn, when we walk through the doors.

[CHORUS]     Repeat 3X

Words & Music by:
C. Michael Stout
February, 1998

Moving Along To Sweet Paradise

When strangers are sisters and brothers again,
And differences no longer decide, we will ride,
And move on towards sweet paradise.

When we learn how to dislike and make right with love,
Tolerate what we despise, we'll be wise -
And move on towards sweet paradise.

When we see through the darkness of hatred and fear,
Covers of deceptions and lies, and open our eyes -
We'll move along to sweet paradise.

Some say it'll never fly, it's just pie-in-the-skies and
A treasure that will never be found.
But I can see a future on the horizon
Where the walls come tumbling down.

When the age and stage of classes finally passes along,
Nations fade and kings step aside, we will glide -
And move along towards sweet paradise.

When race and creed and skin color no longer blinds;
A rainbow stays in the skies, we will rise -
And move along towards sweet paradise.

Some people say that it's just human nature,
And we'll never change.
But I can see a whole different future;
Don't need to give it a name !

Some people say it will always be this way;
There ain't no heaven on earth.
But I can feel the winds of change at play
Bringing something better to birth !

When the senses no longer distract and divide,
The ego storms wane and subside, we'll arrive -
And move on towards sweet paradise.

Words & Music by:  C. Michael Stout   July, 2003
                       
Homestead Town

Homestead Town, Homestead town, used to the story of a glory boom town.
Homestead town, Homestead town, when the mill was there and steelworkers were around.
Pilgrims came and settled to work a pot of gold,
From the iron and the fire in the days of old.
A place full of churches and watering holes;
A boilermaker and Jesus to sooth the souls.

Homestead town, Homestead town, used to be the story of a glory boom town.
Homestead town, Homestead town, when the mill was there and the smoke was all around.
Road signs pointing to you from everywhere;
You were the forge of the universe, the belly of the bear.
Streets full of people in the middle of the night;
Days gray and dark when the furnace was alive.

Homestead town,  Homestead town, used to be the story of a glory boom town.
Homestead town, Homestead town, when the mill was there and the money was around.
From the top of 'Hunky Hill', down to First Avenue,
Everybody worked the mill jobs that you knew.
Men and women making steel, working overtime,
To win the big war from behind the line.

Homestead town, Homestead town, used to be the story of a glory boom town.
Homestead town, Homestead town, when the mill was there and the Union was around.
Taking on the Pinkertons and Frick and Carnegie;
Capturing a moment that was making history.
Workers at the end tryin' to keep the place alive;
Preachers of the faith in the middle of the fight.

Homestead town, Homestead town, used to be the story of a glory boom town.
Homestead town, Homestead town, when the mill was there and good jobs were still around.
History disappearing with the 'hole-in-the-wall,'
Buildings sitting empty in the shadow of the mall.
Spirits of the workers buried down below;
Destiny asleep where the whistle once blowed.

Homestead town, Homestead town, used to be the story of a glory boom town.
Homestead town, Homestead town, when the mill was there and steelworkers were around.

Words & Music by: C. Michael Stout, July, 1992
                                   [revised September, 2003]

JUST A Pawn In Their Game

I come from the working class, like most the rest.
From a place that's familiar,  they call the U.S.
I joined the armed forces straight out of high school;
Thought I could make a difference and learn a trade too.

I love my country, my home and liberty;
I was willing to serve to defend democracy.
To do my duty, put my life on the line;
Didn't feel like a pawn at the time.

I was sent off to fight in a middle east war;
Landed in the eye of a desert storm.
They said we went to liberate, not occupy,
But  it didn't take long to see the real reasons why.
We found no nuclear weapons, no WMD's;
No Al Qaeda connection, or real threat to you and me.
It started to look like the reasons I went
Wasn't really why I was sent, but like I became -
JUST A PAWN IN A GAME.

An extended tour of duty with no end at hand;
Snipers and land mines, just like  Vietnam.
We protected the oil, and corporations that came,
With the maimed and the dead forever  etched in our brain.
Kill or  be killed, was the price to be paid
While their pockets are filled, and their profits are made.
Both sides losin' lives, for some oil man's lies;
Behind all the propaganda and pain, so it seemed -
JUST A PAWN IN THEIR GAME.

When I finally got home, it didn't take long;
The sickness, the nightmares, something seriously wrong.
I went to the VA, but like agent orange before,
They said my pain and illness was not caused by the war.
Then I found out I was poisoned by the ammo we sprayed;
Depleted uranium  that was U.S.-made,
Like they spit on the grave, of every veteran who gave;
I didn't feel like a hero at all, or to blame -
JUST A PAWN IN THEIR GAME

My unit was sent back for another tour;
Into the quagmire of perpetual war.
They shifted their rhetoric to distract and persuade;
But behind their charade, just another empire's crusade.
Now I love my country, for its people I'll die;
But don't ask me to fight for some chickenhawk's lie.
I'd rather stay at home and take care of my own,
Then to kill or spill my blood in vein, or remain -
JUST A PAWN IN THEIR GAME.

Words & Music by:   C. Michael Stout, September, 2003
Words & music by:
C. Michael Stout, August, 2003

Rachel Corrie



Rachel Corrie was a warrior for peace;
She gave her life inside the middle east.
Young activist woman from the U.S.A;
Non-violent soldier in a hostile fray;
Her  only weapons were her faith and her solidarity.

Rachel left her family, friends and culture behind,
All the privileges that come to her kind,
To be a human shield protecting innocent lives;
On a killing field where vengeance resides.
She did not yield instead defied, with a spirit that shined.

Where the bullets, tanks and bulldozers roar,
Up against a force whose only recourse is war,'
There she stood so good, courageous and bold,
Like Fanny Sellins or Mother Jones of old.
She gave her body, heart and soul, just like them  before.

[Bridge] They said she was crazy, she had a lot of nerve;
She never should have been there; she got what she deserved.
But sometimes with justice, words ain't enough;
Knowing means going to the front lines with love.

She got no medals, no press or TV;
Some even said she was the enemy.
Young activist woman from the U.S.A.,
Non-violent soldier in a hostile fray,
Her only weapons were her faith and her solidarity...
Her humanity...her solidarity...her humanity.

Words & music by: C. Michael Stout, October, 2003

BIG BROTHER's WATCHING

Big Brother's watching, he's got you in his sights.
Big Brother's watching, via some giant satellites.
He's got the green light to tap your phone;
Sneak and peek in your house when nobody's home.
Check your credit cards, monitor your email,
He's got the authority to do what he feels.

Big Brother's watching, he's lurkin' in the wing.
Big Brother's watching, he ain't missin' a thing.
Search and seizure without restraint,
You're fair game if you  dare to dissent.
Don't need a warrant or no court order;
The Bill of Rights just got a whole lot shorter.
You say to me, "how can this be ?
"I thought we lived in a democracy ?"
Old Joe McCarthy must be dancin' in his grave;
Someone  better speak up before it's too late -

Most don't even know that we're under attack,
Or what's been lost with these Patriot acts.
Everything we won, they're taking it back;
Someone better wake up and face up to the facts -
                       
Big Brother's watching, you don't even know he's here.
Big Brother's watching, he wants to numb you with fear.
Civil liberties disappearing fast;
'Right to Privacy' a thing of the past.
Random surveillance is the order of the day;
You'll see what I mean when you get in the way.
You better pay attention, 'cause somewhere down the line         
It'll be your turn; it's just a matter of time.
Face up to the truth, no one's immune;
When he come's for you, you'll be singin' this tune -
BIG BROTHER'S WATCHING (6X)

Words & Music by: C. Michael Stout, May, 2003
           
There Are No Real Winners In War
           
Violence strikes with a hideous crash;
In a 'New York minute' they're gone.
Melted steel, human flesh, concrete and glass,
Welded in the rubble as one.
Fear on the streets, terror in the skies;
War's ugly horror right in front of your eyes.
And over and over, you ask yourself why
So many innocent people must die !

Violence hides in the shadows of the hungry child;
Wherever there's poverty it breeds.
In the slums, the sweatshops and the refugee camps,
On the hopelessness it feeds.
Below in the holes where the human's abused;
Where there's never a mention on the evening news;
A hell where there's nothing, and nothing to lose;
It's easy to see why it ain't love that they choose.
                       
Over here, over there, it's the same everywhere;  retaliation just recycles the pain.                   
How many turns will it take till we learn that someone must come break this chain.                     
When it's an 'eye for an eye,' both  sides are blind; no one can really tell the score.                     
Live or die, saint or sinner, there are no real winners in war.

Wars don't decide who's wrong and who's right;
Only who's left.
When the choke from the smoke and the ashes subside,
There's only death.
We call each other satan to justify our hate and
Give reason why so many die.
But no matter who's in it, do you think for a minute
That in war God  really takes sides ?

Over here, over there, it's the same everywhere;
Retaliation recycles the pain.
How many turns will it take till we learn
There's no bargains in this devil's game.
'Cause when it's 'an eye for an eye', everyone's blind;
No one can really tell the score.
Good and bad, saints and sinners,
There are no real winners in war.

Words and music by:     C. Michael Stout, September 29, 2001

BIG TIME CORPORATE BLUES

War-mongers gettin' crazy, the economy's goin' to trash;
System's goin' bankrupt while the big boys are stealin' the cash.
Every time I hear the news, I get the big time corporate blues.

They tell us "greed is good, if they don't keep expanding, they'll die;."
They got eight million lawyers with the best minds money can buy to tell you why.
Every time I hear their lies, I get the big time corporate blues.

They play with other people's money, they're  like junkies with a monkey on their backs;
They keep their profits off shore so they don't have to pay any tax.
Every time I face the facts, I get the big time corporate blues.

[Bridge] Autocratic, plutocratic, thievin' fat cats,
Suit and tie looters, modern -day aristocrats;
Ripping off the people, tearing up the land;
When it's all for them and the rest of us be damned
I get the blues, I get the corporate blues.
Hogs in the boardroom, feedin' at the trough;
For that greedy CEO enough is never enough.
Ain't you  tired of them ripping us off;
I got the big-time corporate blues.

They stole my pension, took my savings and my little nest egg;
They got these giant drug pharmacies, they  try to sell ya relief for an arm and a leg.
When there's nothin' left to lose, you get the big time corporate blues.

They'll eat away at your rights like  parasites; they're like a giant tape worm.
They got their names and their logos and their advertising every where you turn.
When it really gets me burned, I get the big time corporate blues.

[Bridge] Enron, WorldCom, Halliburton, Harken,
Every where you look them corporate hound dogs are barkin'.
Ripping off the people, tearing up the land;
When it's all for them and the rest of us be damned
You get the blues, you  get the corporate blues.
They got no heart, no conscience or soul;
Grabbin' more money's the only thing they know.
When there's no where to hide, and no where to go -
You get the big time corporate blues.

Words & Music by: C. Michael Stout, August, 2002

STOP THE WARS

With empire in your eyes, you invade and occupy.
You’re the cops of the world, selling arms to every side.
Meanwhile here at home, You're cuttin' us to the bone...
(I said) you're cuttin' us to the bone...

STOP THE WARS (3X)
Stop the war on the poor
working women and men.
Over here, over there,
It's the same at both ends - STOP THE WARS !

With the world in your grips, you shoot from the hips.
With death planes and ships, you play your power-trips.
Skull and bones, in a class all your own,
You're in the twilight zone...in the twilight zone...

Stop the Wars (3X)
Stop the wars on the poor
working women and men.
Over here, over there,
I'll keep sayin' it again.
When all is said and done,
and the battle-bell is rung.
It's always working people
at both ends of the gun - STOP THE WARS !

I know it sounds redundant, but what's it good for ?
Violence breeds violence; need I say any more ?
STOP THE WARS (4X)
...You know what it's about, I know it's been said,
cannon fodder, body counts and bury the dead.
Working people pay with taxes, daughters and sons,
While the rich and politicians play the fortunate ones.
STOP THE WARS !

Words & Music by: C. Michael Stout, July, 2003

There Will Always Be


I'll not be silenced by the violence, or the vastness of their might;
nor the madness they incite.
I'll not sit quiet; I'll never buy it, that we cannot break their rule;
that we have to play the fool.
There will always be opposition to their system;
There will always be those of us who will resist them.

I'll not be cowered by the power that their wealth and money brings,
nor the stealth of their war machines.
I will not hide, or stay inside the borders of their state;
or the orders they dictate.

There will always be opposition to their sytem;
There will always be those of us who will resist them.
There will always be the many of us demanding our rights.
There will always be the many of us who swim against the tide.
There will always be too many of us who band and defy.
There will always be too many of us who fight for our rights.                       

There's a war being waged on the working class,
And just how long it lasts, depends on you and me.
When enough of us stand up in defiance
Join together in alliance, will the sleeping giant be set  free, and we will win.

I'll not be blind or be resigned to the bill of goods they sell;
or the pack of lies they tell.
I'm not deceived or so naive to believe it can't be done;
that justice can't be won.
There will always be opposition to their sytem;
There will always be those of us who will resist them.

So let the struggle and resistance begin;
Let your solidarity spread like the wind.
Shine your light so all the people can see
What a different world our children's future can be.
Ebb or flow, fast or slow, sooner or later this system will go
Slave wage, escape the cage, turn the page to a different stage -
There will always be; this will always be; there sill always be (you and me)!
                                   
Words by: C. Michael Stout, May, 2003