- Written June 6th, 2011
- Keywords: Politics, Privilege, Activism
Story Behind the Song -
It’s my politically charged address to Washington and the corruption within. To politicians who forget whom they’re serving. This song refers to the post-9/11 era, when Americans’ patriotism was pumped up on steroids. I found it sadly ironic that the mudslinging still continued in D.C. The politicos threw garbage on each other’s’ suits, impossible to miss hitting the little metal American flag pins they all wore on their lapels.
Song Lyrics -
The wind blows down from Washington and it has a putrid smell.
You throw garbage on each other’s suits with flags on your lapels.
Our soldiers are a-dyin’, yes, but life’s a cabaret!
Don’t bust your buttons as you boast, splash on your Eau de Decay.
You’ll vote for the environment, if you get your highway built.
So many backroom deals are made; still, your conscience bears no guilt.
You vote down gay-rights issues and you’re quick to throw the first stone.
You vote down immigration, but who cleans up your homes?
When you’re oblivious, you can be mysterious.
You can look so serious when you tell us all your lies.
When you’re oblivious, you can be notorious.
You can be disingenuous with other people’s lives.
You live a life of privilege, and vote yourselves a raise.
Be careful not to hurt someone as you pop that cabernet.
Education’s underfunded, our school buildings, obsolete.
While your kids go to Ivy schools, ours are dying in the streets.
Ego, money, sex and pow’r: it’s the same old song & dance:
That silver spoon you’re chewin’ on has got you in a trance.
You roll the dice with others’ lives; you’ve got us in your trap—
I’d like to see you eat your words ‘cause they’re all so full o’ crap...
It’s hard to find a righteous one among you.
You all have your agendas, and it’s definitely not us.
You promise us the moon and stars to get there,
From your leather chairs, you betray the people’s trust.
The wind blows down from Washington and it has a putrid smell.
You throw garbage on each other’s suits with flags on your lapels...
©2012 Jim Shoulak/Cedar Lodge Music