Αργυρώνημα (η μουσική του χρήματος)

daeman

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Rich man's war - John Trudell featuring Jesse Ed Davis


Rich man's war
Industrial streets, class lines
Money talks, turning language to paper pieces
Rich man's war, free man's society
Raging, violent insecurity
Nuclear man, nuclear woman
Unclear how to act

Rich man's war
Pershings cruising Europe
America, Russia
Governmental nuclear views
Industrial allies cutting the world
As though they cannot see blood flowing

Rich man's war
Central America bleeding
Wounds same as Palestine and Harlem
Three Mile Island in El Salvador
Pine Ridge in Belfast

Rich man's war
The poor, starving for food
Starving for land, starving for peace
Starving for real

Rich man's war
Attacking human, attacking being
Attacking earth, attacking tomorrow

Rich man's war
Thinking of always war
Thinking of always war

With machines for ancestors
New unborn generations
Chemical umbilical cords are only wiring
In your electrical progress
Human lives, burnt offerings to the god Greed
With lies for ancestors

There is no truth in some futures
Rulers of minds feeding next generation's souls
To the control machine
Sacrifice ritual for the proper technology
With isolation for ancestors

There is only the present
Bought by the credit material uses
Forging chains binding you to destruction
Compliments of your deities
The industrial priest

No more than neon flash
Trying hiding in neon mask
Have to face who we really are
At some point we had no choice
Distant star, distant light

In real world we are human being
In shadow of real world we are being human

Neon mask for neon flash
Distant thunder, distant cloud
Passions reign
Drenched in possession
What we take is hard to do
What we do is hard to take

Some ones are crazy or maybe we take turns
Dreaming about some kind of life we say
"It could have been different"
But it wasn't because we weren't
No matter what, it turns out the same
A lot of things we said weren't true
Industrial stories in an electric instant
Neon mask, neon flash, neon flash

Thing is nihilistic desires
Civilized gone insane
Didn't imagine it turning like this
Some things start good and go bad
Some things get bad and stay bad
Are we caught in between living a lie
Or not living at all?
Eliminated choices lost in dreams we let go
Memories we never got to have
Something else to think about
Waking up in industrial society
Surrounded by angry days
Going through motions
Of not being
Wanting the best but not expecting it
Surviving paid for in dreams
Feeling like a world alone
Serving god with the devil to pay
Feeling like something in no place
What goes on in hell anyway?

Thing is, it has to do with heart
We have to understand what hearts are for
Before we can get back to heaven or paradise
Or the power in our mind



John Trudell (February 15, 1946 – December 8, 2015) was a Native American author, poet, actor, musician, and political activist. He was the spokesperson for the United Indians of All Tribes' takeover of Alcatraz beginning in 1969, broadcasting as Radio Free Alcatraz. During most of the 1970s, he served as the chairman of the American Indian Movement, based in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
 

daeman

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Καπιτάλα - Θέμης Ανδρεάδης

Στίχοι & Μουσική: Γιάννης Κιουρτσόγλου


Καπιτάλα, αγάπη μου

Καπιτάλα, αγάπη μου μικρή
στη βιοπάλη από μικρό παιδί
έχεις περάσει βάσανα μεγάλα
κι όμως ο κόσμος λέει κατά τ' άλλα
Καπιτάλα, καπιτάλα

Καπιτάλα, αγάπη μου γλυκιά
με ροζιασμένα χέρια απ' τη δουλειά
πόσο πολύ σε έχουν αδικήσει
κι όμως εσύ τους τα 'χεις συγχωρήσει
Καπιτάλα, καπιτάλα

Μαχαραγιάδες και πετρελαιοπαραγωγοί
που τη φτωχολογιά αγαπάνε
εφοπλιστάδες και πλούσιοι απ' όλη τη γη
όλοι σε γάμο σε ζητάνε
μα εσύ κανέναν δε θες, κανένα δε θε-ε-ε-ε-ς
άρα θα μείνεις μεροκαματιάρα

Καπιτάλα αγάπη μου μικρή
άρχοντες απ' την Ανατολή
πόσο πολύ σε έχουν αγαπήσει
όμως εσύ ανήκεις εις τη Δύση
Καπιτάλα, καπιτάλα

Καπιτάλα, αγάπη μου μικρή
το ταλαιπωρημένο σου κορμί
πόσο πολύ το έχουν τυραννήσει
και ένσημα δε σου έχουνε κολλήσει
Καπιτάλα, καπιτάλα
 

daeman

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Staff member
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Ο σερ (Ή έχεις ρετιρέ ή σε φωνάζουν «ρε») - Θέμης Ανδρεάδης

Στίχοι: Δημήτρης Χριστοδούλου, Μουσική: Γιώργος Ζαμπέτας

Ο κύριος με τα λεφτά και με το ρετιρέ
μπερδεύει τ' όνομά μου και με φωνάζει «ρε»

Ή έχεις ρετιρέ ή σε φωνάζουν «ρε»

Ο κύριος με τα λεφτά μπαίνει στο ασανσέρ
μπερδεύω τ' όνομά του και τον φωνάζω «σερ»

Ή έχεις ρετιρέ ή σε φωνάζουν «ρε»

Αφού ξηγήθηκα σαφές.
Παιδί, κόκαλα έχει ο καφές;
 

daeman

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No Private Income Blues - Charles Mingus


Recorded live in Nonagon Art Gallery, NYC, January 16, 1959

John Handy - Alto Sax, Booker Ervin - Tenor Sax, Richard Wyands - Piano, Charles Mingus - Bass, Dannie Richmond - Drums
 

daeman

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Παιάκιν Μυρωάτον / Young upwardly-mobile professional - Monsieur Doumani feat. Maroulla Constantinou


Τώρα που λείφτης τον ππαρά εδίκλισες τζαι κάτω
Τόσο τζαιρόν αππώνεσουν παιάκιν μυρωάτον
Τζαι τόσα που δανείστηκες να χτίσεις τζείντο σπίτι
να πιάσεις Μπι Εμ Νταπλουγιού, ντάμα να μεν σου λείπει
Την γραβατούν τυλίχτηκες τζ' είπες άμπρα κατάμπρα
τζαι νόμισες, ρε πίθηκε, πως έννα μοιάσεις μ' άντραν
Μα τώρα που τα λείφτηκες, σου φάνην η μιζέρκα
Εν προλαβαίνεις να βουράς, να γλείφεις κωλομέρκα
 

daeman

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Where the hell's my money - Mojo Nixon & Skip Roper



I hate banks


Well, I hate banks, I just can't stand 'em
Gimme a shovel and, man, I'll plant 'em
Six feet under, that's where they belong
"I Hate Banks" is the name of this song
I think I'll rob myself one or two
I hate banks, yeah, how 'bout you?

Well, lend me a nickel and lend me a dime
Repossess my house any old time
Financial institutions
Think they're so high falutin'
Just a bunch of fruits in three-piece suits, yeah
Tryin' to steal all my loot

Things are smellin' mighty rank
We must be near a stinky bank
Smells worse than Rockefeller's feet
Wall Street can eat my meat

Yeah, throw the money changers outta the temple
I hate banks, it's just that simple
A Royal Crown pomade tin
Is the best thing to keep your money in, yeah
Mason jar is okay too
If you see a bank, well, you know what to do

Now, lemme tell you people something
The only banks I like, well, I like Ernie Banks alright
And I like the banks of the Mississippi River
Yeah, and I like banks of Fender twin-reverb electric guitar amplifiers behind me
Ragin' on the stagin'

Well, when I walk in, they treat me like a dog
Wanna hit 'em in the head with a doo-doo log
Republicans, one and all
Their tallywhackers are mighty small
Stealin' from the poor and give to the rich
Wanna make the bank president twitch in a ditch

Yeah, see that teller with the blue hair
Giving me the evil-eye stare
Won't cash my check, don't like my ID
Got the security guard after me
If I was P. F. Sloan
I'd say the Dow Jones can suck my bone, yeah, alright

Everybody say these three magic words
I want you to help me say the words, I want you to repeat after me, here we go

I hate banks (I hate banks)
Can't stand 'em
I hate banks
Don't like 'em
I hate banks
Bunch of foo-foos
I hate banks
Pop 'em like a big zit
I hate banks

I hate banks, just can't stand 'em
Gimme a shovel and man, I'll plant 'em
Six feet under, that's where they belong
"I Hate Banks" is the name of this song
I think I'll rob myself one or two
I hate banks, yeah, how 'bout you?

Now lemme tell you something else
I'm not real fond of the phone company either, you know?
Yeah, and I don't like the cable TV company
You know why I don't like the cable TV company?
'Cause they just be sucking that stuff right out the sky!
They don't have to pay nothin' for it
I just get me one of them bootleg cable boxes
And get me one of them there, climb the pole and stick the thing in
I ain't gonna pay for it, no!
 

daeman

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names of money.jpg
 
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