Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

ride the disposable west, pack a frosty colt 45
or trade up to atom splittin', chain smokin'
shockwavin' steel strokin' smokin' gun
lit up tarentino fart, cartoon ablaze

i am the war machine, on the one
the new west is jumpy on the range
barking head booze do ooze from screens
the network penciled in a war if weather holds

i am the war machine, on the one
i creepeth within the strip mall underworld
recruiters open folding tables amid oil stains
education calls like a million scorcese mob hits

i am the war machine, on the one
no more smokin' reefer on hamburger hill
i am one badass son of a bitch with techno
i'll shake you down to a stone age boneyard

i am the war machine, slight return
i shop and hath dominion over my bondage
blood on the altar of freedom's boardroom
i pay my protection money on time

clever, the sainted vocabulary
clever, the nobility spread from greed
clever, the light spread from darkness
clever, the the truth spread from lies

Defineately one of my favourites.

especially like, "blood on the altar of freedom's boardroom".....says it all....the lies, the profit, sold to poor jobless boys in the WalMart parking lot.....and it would be one thing if the government actually gave the 30,000 wounded good care.....but no.... now they wait in an endless line for prosthetic limbs, counseling for rampant PTSD, and lifetime care for brain injured veterans.....and suicide often becomes the only way out of their nightmares

thanks terry.

dead-on, steve ...

exactly.