| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 7:58 | 
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| 2. |
| 7:52 |
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| 3. |
| 3:11 | 
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I have believed in my convictions
And have been convicted for my beliefs Conned by the constitution And harassed by the police. I've been billed for the bill of rights And been treated like I was wrong. I have become a special amendment For what included me all along. Like "All men are created equal." (No amendment needed here) I've contributed in every field including cotton From Sunset Strip to Washington Square. Back during the non-violent era. I was the only non-violent one. As a matter of fact there was no non-violence 'cause too many rednecks had guns. There seems to have been this pattern That a lot of folks failed to pick up on. But all black leaders who dared stand up Wuz in jail, in the courtroom or gone. Picked up indiscriminately By the shocktroops of discrimination To end up in jails or tied up in trails While dirty tricks soured the nation. I've been hoodwinked by professional hoods. My ego has happened to me. It'll be alright, just keep things cool!" "And take the people off the street. We'll settle all this at the conference table. You just leave everything to me." Which gets me back to my convictions And being convicted for my belief 'cause I believe these smiles in three piece suits with gracious, liberal demeanor took our movement off of the streets and took us to the cleaners In other words, we let up the pressure And that was all part of their plan And every day we allow to slip through our fingers Is playing right into their hands |
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| 4. |
| 2:37 |
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I had said I wasn't going to write no more poems like this
I had confessed to myself all along, tracer of life, poetry trends That awareness, consciousness, poems that screamed of pain and the origins of pain and death had blanketed my tablets And therefore, my friends, brothers, sisters, in-laws, outlaws, and besides -- they already knew But brother Torres, common ancient bloodline brother Torres is dead I had said I wasn't going to write no more poems like this I had said I wasn't going to write no more words down about people kicking us when we're down About racist dogs that attack us and drive us down, drag us down and beat us down But the dogs are in the street The dogs are alive and the terror in our hearts has scarcely diminished It has scarcely brought us the comfort we suspected The recognition of our terror and the screaming release of that recognition Has not removed the certainty of that knowledge -- how could it The dogs rabid foaming with the energy of their brutish ignorance Stride the city streets like robot gunslingers And spread death as night lamps flash crude reflections from gun butts and police shields I had said I wasn't going to write no more poems like this But the battlefield has oozed away from the stilted debates of semantics Beyond the questionable flexibility of primal screaming The reality of our city, jungle streets and their Gestapos Has become an attack on home, life, family and philosophy, total It is beyond the question of the advantages of didactic niggerisms The motherfucking dogs are in the street In Houston maybe someone said Mexicans were the new niggers In LA maybe someone said Chicanos were the new niggers In Frisco maybe someone said Orientals were the new niggers Maybe in Philadelphia and North Carolina they decided they didn't need no new niggers I had said I wasn't going to write no more poems like this But dogs are in the street It's a turn around world where things are all too quickly turned around It was turned around so that right looked wrong It was turned around so that up looked down It was turned around so that those who marched in the streets with bibles and signs of peace became enemies of the state and risk to national security So that those who questioned the operations of those in authority on the principles of justice, liberty, and equality became the vanguard of a communist attack It became so you couldn't call a spade a motherfucking spade Brother Torres is dead, the Wilmington Ten are still incarcerated Ed Davis, Ronald Regan, James Hunt, and Frank Rizzo are still alive And the dogs are in the motherfucking street I had said I wasn't going to write no more poems like this I made a mistake |
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| 5. |
| 12:57 |
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| 6. |
| 8:39 |
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Some people think that America invented the blues
And few people doubt that America is the home of the blues As the bluesicians have gone all over the world carrying the blues message And the world has snapped its fingers and tapped its feet right along with the blues folks But, the blues has always been totally American As American as apple pie As American as the blues As American as apple pie The question is why? Why should the blues be so at home here Well, America provided the atmosphere America provided the atmosphere for the blues and the blues was born The blues was born on the American wilderness The blues was born on the beaches where the slave ships docked Born on the slave man's auction block The blues was born and carried on the howling wind The blues grew up a slave The blues grew up as property The blues grew up in Nat Turner visions The blues grew up in Harriet Tubman courage The blues grew up in small town deprivation The blues grew up in big city isolation The blues grew up in the nightmares of the white man The blues grew up in the blues singing of Bessie and Billie and Ma The blues grew up in Satchmo's horn, on Duke's piano and Langston's poetry, on Robeson's baritone The point is That the blues has grown The blues is grown now, full grown And you can trace the evolution of the blues On a parallel line with the evolution of this country From Plymouth Rock to acid-rock From 13 states to Watergate The blues is grown But not the home The blues is grown But the country has not The blues remembers everything the country forgot It's a bicentennial year and the blues is celebrating a birthday And it's a bicentennial blues America has got the blues and it's a bicentennial edition The blues view might amuse you But make no mistake, it's a bicentennial year A year of hysterical importance A year of historical importance Ripped off like donated moments from the past 200 years ago this evening 200 years ago last evening And what about now? The blues is now The blues has grown up and the country has not The country has been ripped off Ripped off like the Indians Ripped off like jazz Ripped off like nature Ripped off like Christmas Man-handled by media overkill Goosed by aspiring vice presidents Violated by commercial corporations A bicentennial year The year the symbol transformed into the B-U-Y centennial Buy a car Buy a flag Buy a map Until the public in mass has been bludgeoned into bicentennial submission Or bicentennial suspicion I fall into the latter category It's a blues year And America has got the blues It's got the blues because of partial deification Of partial accomplishments Over partial periods of time Halfway justice Halfway liberty Halfway equality It's a half-ass year And we would be silly in all our knowledge In all our self-righteous knowledge When we sit back and laugh and mock the things that happen in our lives To accept anything less than the truth About this bicentennial year And the truth relates to 200 years of people and ideas getting by It got by George Washington The ideas of justice, liberty and equality Got cold by George Washington Slave-owner general Ironic that the father of this country Should be a slave owner The father of this country a slave-owner Having got by him It made it easy to get by his henchman The creators of this liberty Who slept in the beds with the captains of slave ships Fought alongside black freed men in the union army And left America a legacy of hypocrisy It's a blues year Got by Gerald Ford Oatmeal man Has declared himself at odds With people on welfare, people who get food stamps Day care children, the elderly, the poor, women And people who might vote for Ronald Reagan Ronald Reagan, it got by him Hollyweird Acted like a actor Acted like a liberruuuuuuuulllzz lolz Acted like General Franco when he acted like governor of California Now he acts like somebody might vote for him for president It got by Jimmy Carter Skippy Got by Jimmy Carter and got by him and his friend the colonel The creators of southern-fried triple talk A blues trio America got the blues It got by Henry Kissinger The international godfather of peace A piece of Vietnam A piece of Laos A piece of Angola A piece of Cuba A blues quartet And America got the blues The point is that it may get by you For another 4 years For another 8 years You stuck Playing 2nd fiddle in a blues quartet Got the blues looking for the first principle Which was justice It's a blues year for justice It's a blues year for the San Quentin 6 Looking for justice It's a blues year for Gary Tyler Looking for justice It's a blues year for Rev. Ben Chaves Looking for justice It's a blues year for Boston Looking for justice It's a blues year for baby's on buses It's a blues year for mothers and fathers with babies on buses It's a blues year for Boston And it's a blues year all over this country America has got the blues And the blues is in the street looking for the 3 principles Justice, liberty and equality We would do well to join the blues looking for justice, liberty and equality The blues is in the street America has got the blues But don't let it get by us. |
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| 7. |
| 7:28 |
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