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(Campbell, Carr, Dolfi, Farrell)
these self-proclaimed healers say to love your fellow man
while you're busy loving—they're taking all they can
TV crusader shouting words of religion
in the name of Jesus Christ they take all that you can give them
they write you long letters, they preach on your screen
condemn anyone who go against the words they speak
day after day the christian army moves faster
they want control of your soul—downward christian bastards!
downward christian soldiers / get out your wallet, open your purse
downward christian soldiers / they save your soul, but the money comes first
downward christian soldiers / they got your money, now they want your soul
downward christian soldiers / you had a mind, now they got control
the Moral Majority and the Club PTL
if that's the way to heaven, I'll spend my time in hell
donations flow in, the ratings they soar
they can build and brand new church, why bother with the poor
they got so much money, they invade politics
using smearing campaigns and mud-slinging tricks
a born-again army, led by fascist direction
how long do we have before they control the elections?
downward christian soldiers / Hitlers who hide behind collars
downward christian soldiers / they get rich from the sinner's dollars
downward christian soldiers / big business from the man who wears the cross
downward christian soldiers / good christians pick up the cost
a corporate exec lies and cheats all his life
now he gives to his church so that makes it alright
Jesus walked his last mile with a cross upon his back
today's men of god drive brand new Cadillacs
with war and poverty, children go hungry
while fat christian con-men sit back and count their money
beware of these men, the damnation they preach
take a good look at them, do they live like they teach?
downward christian soldiers / get out your wallets, open your purse
downward christian soldiers / they save your soul, but the money comes first
downward christian soldiers / big business from the man who wears the cross
downward christian soldiers / good christians pick up the cost
(Dolfi)
Boyd Farrell: All Dolfi. I loved that song and I felt this was where we should have been headed. It was always about me being the lyricist, but that song gave me a new perspective on Mike's lyrics. The imagery was excellent. He wrote it after attending a friend's funeral.
we are gathered
to pay respect
to pay someone at a white boy funeral
here he lies
here we cheat
he is dead at a white boy funeral
greive a little
show some feelings
send him flowers at a white boy funeral
ash to ashes
dust to dust
throw in the dirt at a white boy funeral
they seemed to come from everywhere
though no one really knows his name or cares
they swarmed on him like flies on shit
blaming him and his lifetime of mistakes
nothing to realize cause everything was lost
nothing to criticize cause he was the cost
happy people
here to stage
here to party at a white boy funeral
talkin' dirty
talkin' cheap
sayin' nothing at a white boy funeral
he was alive
he was kind
we will miss him at a white boy funeral
he was a joker
he was a loser
he was my friend at a white boy funeral
he lived for the very day he died
which was a day he looked forward to
he was loved by everyone
yes, he was really easy to hate
nothing to realize cause everything was lost
nothing to criticize cause he was the cost
smell the death
have a drink
cry a little at a white boy funeral
considerations
from the family
mama's laughing at a white boy funeral
his girl was there
in the back
she fucked his best friend at a white boy funeral
the party's here
have a beer
sex lives forever at a white boy funeral
(Carr)
another day, some other time
well maybe now I'll lose my mind
don't know why, this feeling I have
it's making me ill, it's making me mad
what can I do to end this misery
the only way it's got to be
I get my kicks from a 30.6
I need some kicks, it's killing time
one time is all I want—it's what I need
yeah, that's what I want
yeah, killing time, one time is all I need, it's what I want
things come undone, there's no ambition
final cause it's the solution
I feel the rush go through my head
body count—ten persons dead
hopeless case makes no mistakes
a bullet rips through someone's face
no more fears—no more tears
bang bang bang, it's killing time!
one time is all I want—it's what I need
yeah, that's what I want
yeah, killing time, one time is all I need, it's what I need
fire it once—fire it twice
fire again, won't pay no price
the time is now
the time is now
the time is now, it's killing time
one time is all I want—it's what I need
yeah, and it's I want
yeah, killing time, one time is all I need, it's what I need
(Dolfi)
opening dialogues always seem to hide the truth
'til we forget who we are and then give way
having a cry for life holds us at bay
speculations of how we should feel
senseless offerings of words and descriptions
only bringing back the part of life that was
the pain of feelings towards someone...
the reason we send flowers
to want so little though leave it all behind
the wisdom of a common man has taken all he can
deliver on justice, your brain twists inside
losing friends and lovers builds an honest man
senseless offerings of words and descriptions
only bringing back the part of life that was
the pain of feelings toward someone...
the reason we send flowers
don't send me no flowers!
to want so little is to always want too much
the screams from loved ones make it seem so out of touch
death to life—it seems do out of control
throw away the tombstones, send in the burs
senseless offerings of words and descriptions
only bringing back the part of life that was
the pain of feelings towards someone...
the reason we send flowers...
now I understand why we send flowers
now I understand why we send flowers
send me no flowers!
(Carr, Farrell)
Boyd Farrell ('84): That song was written about Jello originally, but the more bands we've opened for the more I've realized it's deeper than that and the epitome of that is the Exploited.
Boyd ('04): This Year's Prophet was about calling out some of these political punk singers. They had no trouble bitching about this country or how bad society had treated them, but they were making a pretty damn good living doing it. Some of these shows the kids were like sheep and the bands would say the most stupid things and the kids ate it up. I remember seeing Wattie from the Exploited singing Fuck the USA and all these kids chanting right along. As someone who had chosen to be an American I was very offended. If he doesn't like it here, stay the fuck home.
another prophet has risen, but the message is still the same, preaching forgotten dreams
his words are full of destruction, a self-styled anarchist
but you can bet he's making his money off some poor kid clenching a fist
he's made his opinions well known, he controls your behavior
so treat him like a saint—treat him like a savior
they never doubt or complain
this year's prophet—ya don't fool me
why don't you get off it, who you trying to be?
full of dreams that have long since died
this year's prophet, I can see right through all your lies
his fans are devoted, his records are bought up and played
songs of deception, making money off those he betrayed
try to envision if this prophet's words of indecision came to pass
how long do you think your life would last?
why don't you wake up and see
he's preaching on a soapbox of vinyl
he's just like you and me
this year's prophet—ya don't fool me
who the hell are you supposed to be?
full of dreams that have long since died
this year's prophet, I can see right through all your lies
another prophet has risen, but the message is still the same preaching forgotten dreams
his words are full of destruction, a self-styled anarchist
but you can bet he's making his money off some poor kid clenching a fist
he's made his opinions well known, he controls your behavior
so treat him like a saint—treat him like a savior
they never doubt or complain
(Carr, Farrell)
Richard Harrington: BMB also displays the wost misogynist tendencies this side of Van Halen and the most gun-ho diplomacy this side of Qaddafi. [...] Women they want to demean totally, as on Gunpoint Affection. It's a straightforward rape fantasy, unrelieved by any suggestion that they're kidding. It's a despicable song that negates the rest of BMB's work.
Boyd Farrell ('85): That's totally nonsense. The song is taken from a movie. The act of rape is a very brutal, graphic, violent crime and to get the point across you have to use brutal, graphic, violent description and that's pretty much what I did. After you listen to the song it leaves you with a scary feeling. I certainly don't want people thinking I'm condoning rape. It's ridiculous. I have a wife, a daughter, a mother and a sister all of whom I'm very close to and I wouldn't want them to go through that. I just want to make that very clear because I've caught a lot of flak for it.
Boyd ('04): I can see now why a lot of folks were upset about it. My wife at the time had an idea to write a song about a victim of rape after we had seen The Other Victim. Her idea sounded like all the listener would get out of it would be a feeling of sympathy or pity. I felt to get the point across I would sing it in the first person to project the obsessive, scary behaviour that leads to the criminal act. After we first did the song I felt a little disturbed, and I knew it would affect people. Remember, I grew up listening to Dead Babies by Alice Cooper and Sympathy for the Devil. I felt like it was in that sort of genre. I never thought Mick or Alice were killing babies or worshiping the devil.
I've been watching you for weeks now
when I see you, I become obsessed
now I stand outside your window
watching you undo your dress
your husband's gone from work all day
I think of things that I can do to you
I slip inside your bedroom and introduce you to my .44
my mind is blinded white with hate
you're gonna live this day in your darkest memories
you bite my arm
you kick my leg
you dig you nails into my cheek
I press the barrel against your head
your lips move but you don't speak
no need to worry about rejection
you'll stay alive if you're submitting
you're just giving me
gunpoint affection
our bodies clash
pulsating sweat trickles down my brow
are you enjoying or are you hating?
I guess it really doesn't matter to me now
your face is white with fear—your body moist and tight
the things you thought forbidden I make you do to my delight
I make you tell me things I know that you don't mean
I penetrate you deeper and laugh at every scream
your eyes are wide with anger, your teeth are clenched with hate
yeah, you will live this day forever
in every man you'll see my face
you are a victim of my obsession
I'll break your arm if you start screaming
just keep giving me
gunpoint affection
this time's for real, baby
it's the end of my dreaming
affection
you are a victim of my obsession
let's have a good time and I'll stop hitting
you're just giving me gunpoint affection
give it to me
(Dolfi)
unwanted child, I grew up in distant arms
never cared for your son or daughter
your own paragon was a flush in the toilet
your manhood was a beat on your wife
seeing you so strong—seeing the real
I see—you see
I see—you see
I see—you see
I see—you see
is this personal now to share?
I'm gonna shout so you all can hear
man above or love of pain
us growing up, you growing old
you saw me as nothing—I say you're nothing!
I see—you see
I see—you see
I see—you see
I see—you see
I've found a family now
people I can love for the rest of my life
with our lives we will live
with each other we will give
it's out of anger from all of us
through me we can send it to you!
I see—you see
I see—you see
I see—you see
I see—you see
I see—you see
I see—you see
I see—you see
I see—you see
(Dolfi)
when you hear the news don't you feel it?
downfall after downfall, the way lives are going
one nation under god, indivisible
campaign promises that only cover up
the cut-backs, the setbacks, stealin' from the state
politicians stuffing money into their faces
who will help / Joe Nobody / he's a face in the crowd
Joe, Joe Nobody / he's the one speaking out loud
to hell with speeches, to hell with the lies
get his facts straight from the streets—that's where it starts
I see no future for this country as it is
power is made from the man, not just his mouth
from where I stand I can only wonder 'bout the world
a push here, a push there will only bring hell above ground
someone up there has got to realize what's at stake!
remember the way every president smiles
like the marble on the White House walls
sometimes it's enough to make my skin crawl
how much more bullshit are you gonna buy?
how about you, Joe Nobody / he's Mr. Public
Joe, Joe Nobody / he's tired and sick of it
Joe, Joe Nobody / he's a leader, not a foe
Joe, Joe Nobody / he's a cousin to John and Jane Doe
Joe, Joe Nobody
(Dolfi)
where do they come from, what do they mean?
laughing as they walk by with their eyes to the ground
they never take a stand to reveal all their ways
we won't take it, we're into it, OK!
DC's really nice but then there's always us
fists of fury that explode for a common cause
and the body count starts / fight for your life
they can never tear us apart / fight for your life
slam their faces in their own shit / fight for your life
let them hear the metal hit / fight for your life
do you like the music that pounds from us?
or is it offensive, immoral to thy ears?
we don't care cause you're just not aware
sidewalk slammin', no clubs to go to
restless anger you can see it in our eyes
land of angels gonna give you a run
and the body count starts / fight for your life
they can never tear us apart / fight for your life
slam their faces in their own shit / fight for your life
let them hear the metal hit / fight for your life
welcome to paradise, land of opportunity
two-faced sods fool us with deception
anyone can hide to stab you in the back
welcome to paradise and fight for your life!
fight for your life!
monumental steps—they're buried in our hearts
we know this all along from the very start
our consience is clean except for the boot in your face
listen to anything but think for yourselves
in for the kill, feel our power for miles
we won't give up, no we'll never give into them!
and the body count starts / fight for your life
they can never tear us apart / fight for your life
slam their faces in their own shit / fight for your life
let them hear the metal hit / fight for your life
(Carr, Farrell)
Boyd Farrell: I wrote this about the 9:30 Club. I came down with my good buddy Keith one night, got totally inebriated, and hit somebody who had no business being hit. Then all the 9:30 security personnel jumped on top of me and pounded the shit out of me—which I did deserve. They were all friends of mine, but they enjoyed the hell out of it.
twenty-five beers and I can't see straight
I wanna hit someone, somebody I hate
I stumble when I walk and I can't seem to think
so I stagger to the bar and buy another drink
I'm standing with my glass when some creep bumps into me
should I beat his ass or should I let him be?
should I hit him now or should I let him be?
strike first / make it hurt, ask questions later
strike first / make it hurt, I'm out of control
strike first / make it hurt, I'm a troublemaker
strike first / make it hurt, my blood runs cold
the clock strikes twelve and I'm wound pretty tight
his girlfriend screams when I hit him with a right
the crowd splits apart when he falls to the floor
four burly bouncers come breaking through the door
fists start to fly, you can hear the bottles break
I'm lying on the floor with a boot kicked in my face
kicked in my face
boot kicked in my face
they drag me to the door and throw me down the stairs
but I'm too drunk to feel it, so I don't even care
the club is closing down so I hit the liquor store
spend my last few bucks on a six pack of Coors
now I'm getting bored as I watch the boy bag it
I'm walking out the door when some long hair calls me faggot!
strike first / make it hurt, ask questions later
strike first / make it hurt, I'm out of control
strike first / make it hurt, I'm a troublemaker
strike first / make it hurt, my blood runs cold
strike first
strike first
strike first
strike
(Campbell, Carr, Cleary, Farrell)
Boyd Farrell: I can't tell you how many kids have come up to me and said how much that song reminded them of the kids they went to school with. You can go to any suburban parking lot across the United States of America and the song would apply.
America's youth, flannel shirts and blue jeans
spending their lives on drinking, drugs, and dreams
America's youth, tribal customs are crude
drinking six packs of Schlitz and eating quaaludes
America's youth / hair past their shoulders
sixteen forever, they never grow older
America's youth / the parking lot crowd
now that you're in, you can't get out
America's youth, the future don't matter
been given everything on a silver platter
America's youth, teenage frustration
they can't seem to cope with life's complications
America's youth / the re-run generation
Star Trek and Lucy, their only education
America's youth / Woodstock lives on
they don't seem to realize that their days are gone
America's youth, gods have guitars
stadium temples, religion for the lost
they have no ambition, content to be lost
star spangled banner's a thing of the past
asking questions but not hearing the truth
living on dreams, America's youth
America's youth / hair past their shoulders
sixteen forever, they never grow older
America's youth / the parking lot crowd
now that you're in, you can't get out
no hope / for America's youth
no hope / for America's youth
no hope / for America's youth
no hope
(Campbell, Farrell)
Boyd Farrell: That song was written originally out of anger. This was at the time of the Iranian crisis and it was on everyone's mind. Everybody wanted to go over there and blow Iran off the map. After I calmed down a bit I rewrote it to take a tongue-in-cheek look at war but originally it was a patriotic reaction. It's kind of black humour.
John Stabb: Not only is World at War a great song but it helped change my band's name from the Stab to GI. I'm sure glad we didn't decide to keep the name the Mohawks—ha!
wanna war / I wanna be a GI
I wanna war / I wanna fight 'til I die
wanna war / I wanna go with the troops
I wanna war / I wanna shoot me some gooks
wanna war / I wanna sleep with a gun
I wanna war / I wanna kill everyone
wanna war / I wanna bomb all the cities
wanna war / I wanna show them no pity
I wanna war / I wanna show them my might
wanna war / I wanna beat the Third Reich
wanna war / I wanna cheap kind of thrill
I wanna war / I wanna reason to kill
world at war / guns in the streets
world at war / smoke fills the air
world at war / no hope for peace
panic everywhere
wanna war / I wanna jump out of planes
I wanna war / I wanna be like John Wayne
wanna war / I wanna march through Moscow
I wanna war / I wanna make Brezhnev bow
wanna war / I wanna see Fidel dead
I wanna war / I wanna wipe out the reds
wanna war / I wanna bomb all the cities
wanna war / I wanna show them no pity
I wanna war / I wanna show them my might
wanna war / I wanna beat the Third Reich
wanna war / I wanna cheap kind of thrill
I wanna war / I wanna reason to kill
world at war / no more detante
world at war / the strongest survive
world at war / take what we want
gotta stay alive
wanna war / I wanna bomb all the cities
wanna war / I wanna show them no pity
I wanna war / I wanna show them my might
wanna war / I wanna beat the Third Reich
wanna war / I wanna cheap kind of thrill
I wanna war / I wanna reason to kill
world at war / guns in the streets
world at war / smoke fills the air
world at war / no more hope for peace
panic everywhere
© Dementlieu 2005
Music and lyrics © Black Market Baby
Boyd Farrell ('84): What it comes down to is I was home one Sunday, very bored. I was watching one of those PTL Club things and it just got to the point that I got so aggravated about what they were saying. They're all sitting around in these really nice suits and plush sets saying how they need money to build more PTL Club temples, places of worship and it just seemed pretty ridiculous—sitting there in such splendor and, you know people are starving...
Boyd ('04): Downward damn near predicted the whole pathetic fall of the Falwell, Swaggart, PTL Club crew. I despised those people and their hypocrisy. I heard the song was featured in some christian film as an example of the satanic music kids are listening to. Good! I hope they hate us!
If you can name that film (or better yet, have a copy!) you will be rewarded in punk rock heaven... Email me if you can help.