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Anyone's Son Will Do
Homeland InsecurityC 2003 Michael Bade
(Seattle. WTO, Round up of local Muslims, Round up of local Japanese.)
Nineteen forty two, American Japanese weíre told theyíd be protected if they went quietly.
Like cattle in the desert inside a barb wire fence When they looked up all the guns were pointing in.
Youíve heard about the roundups of Muslim men and boys, claiming they have cells and nasty little ploys
One day theyíre with us the next they disappear. Redefining freedom in the land of fear
Homeland security works if we sleep. Just close our eyes and donít think too deep
They donít want you to protest or question what they do,Theyíre rounding up the Muslims And looking close at you.
McCarthy spread fear like a viral disease he painted RED on all his enemies
Are you un-American? Do you sympathize? Arenít you kinda gay? Let me look in your eyes
WTO they tried to keep it quiet, when it got too big they called it a riot
They fired on the crowd until the 4th day,when the mayor called the cops off the violence went away.
Youíve heard about the round ups of Muslim boys and men. Right here in America itís happening again
They strip you of your rights. Youíre left to rot in jail. You canít see the charges and there isnít any bail
Take Me Up to the MountainC 1999 Michael E. Bade
(Pennsylvania. On the way home from a long day missing the West Coast)
Heading down in the left hand lane trying hard not to feel the pain of troubles and so much to do.
Billboard says, Iíll feel alright if I stay in your hotel tonight. Sometimes I wish that that were true.
Take me up to the mountain. Take me out to the sea. Let me wade in the river. Pour your waters over me
. Whereís the time Iím suppose to pray. Rushing through life everyday. Maybe thatís something for the privileged few.
How am I suppose to find a little bit of that peace of mind. Iím late and thereís so much to do.
Didnít get here in just one day gonna take some time to feel ok. Lord you know what I have to do.
Anyone's Son Will DoWords and Music by Michael Bade c 2002 Michael Bade
(Chord Structure by Steve Walker and Michael Bade)
I was just a boy like boys around the world
Raised on mom and apple pie my nations flag unfurled
I thought Iíld join like other boys looking for a thrill
They have got to change you to make you want to kill
My hairs cut short, Iím screamed at like a dog.
I havenít slept in days for days on end my mind is in a fog
Iíve marched and run and crawled through swamps itís all part of the drill.
Theyíve got to change you to make you want to kill
Anyoneís son will do It doesnít really matter who
Theyíll wrap you in the flag and new pair of boots
And while youíre out there dyin, Theyíre the ones high flying
As you crawl your way through hell to get back home
As you crawl your way through hell just to get back home
I have been taught so many things Iíve never done before
100 ways to take a life and what weíre fighting for
Theyíve trained me for an enemy whose blood Iíll gladly spill.
They have got to change you to make you want to kill
I am just a boy like others in this war,
Someone elseís target for bullets and bombs and more
Iíve done things I canít think about and maybe never will.
They have got to change you to make you want to kill.
Affluenzac2000 Michael E. Bade
(Inspired while working on the PBS documentary ďAffluenza.Ē)
Iíve got Affluenza the common disease, I canít stop buying all these new things.
I know itís not healthy having all this stuff but I canít seem to get enough.
Iíve got a 4 wheel drive with 6 CD changer, power glass and leather for those tough city dangers.
I added all the options so I could make a statement. I got it almost freeÖwell, no down easy payments.
Iíve got a new computer, modem and CD now they got a faster one I saw it on T.V.
Just when I buy my software they tell me itís outdated. My memory is failing maybe itís related
Iíve got a cell phone, email, and pagers that beep. You can get me on vacation or while Iím asleep.
I own hundreds of ways to keep in touch.. I wonder if my friends really like me all that much.
Iíve got a big house mortgage line of credit due. My payments are growing I refinance them too.
I must be doing good Ďcause every week with out fail, I get pre-approved credit card offers in the mail.
Boy in Trouble(Lancaster Pennsylvania. A true story of a dear friend and his son)
C 1996 Michael E. Bade Words and Music by Michael Bade
Iím sleeping soundly, phone rings Iím groping in the dark. Itís the cops
Are you the parents of a child we found in trouble in the park? Yes I am
It doesnít seem fair as I drive my car to get him. What did I do? Heís a good boy and I love him.
Dear God you aught to know. What itís like to have a boy in trouble.
Is there something you can give when need a lot more than sympathy?
There he is waiting. Head between his hands behind the glass. Like a convict.
I hug him closely but thereís a wall behind his eyes that I canít pass
It doesnít seem fair that even though I love him, Heís not longer a child and my hug doesnít make it better
We talk for hours. Iím longing for the healing of my child.
I can go with you but no ones love is big enough to take away all of the pain.
It doesnít seem fair ans I leave him at the nurses station. The double doors lock and Iím going home without him.
Could It Be?(Seattle, An Easter Sunday
C 1988 Michael E. Bade
Like the wise men we come. Drawn by the ancient of days.
Rising star through broken clouds. Bright minstrel heralding the way.
Could it be who weíve been looking for? Lord of both poor and king, release the world to sing
. Could it be who weíve been waiting for? Lord of infinite light dancing on the earth tonight?
Like storm tossed travelers in dark skys, clearing to see bright constellations.
A million voices singing praise, as this heartbeat righs out across creation.
Updated October11th, 2003