[Tim Murphy]

The first time I heard Eric Bogle sing this song, I just had to pull off the road. Of course I knew the history of Gallipoli.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WG48Ftsr3OI I knew the history of Galipolli.

So this is number one in my pantheon. The second is a song I sang when I was young, protesting Vietnam. You can sing it to the jingoistic When Jonny Comes Marching Home, which was popularized by the Union Troops during the Civil War, but this is the Irish original, which I'll try to type from memory:

Wi yer guns and drums and drums an guns,
harroo, harroo,
Wi yer guns and drums and drums an guns,
harroo, harroo,
Wi yer guns and drums an guns an drums
the enemy nearly slew ye,
Oh me darlin dear ye look so queer,
Jonny I hardly knew ye.

Where are yer legs that used to run,
harroo, harroo,
Where are your legs that used to run
when ye first went to carry the gun?
Oh indeed your dancin days are done,
Jonny I hardly knew ye.

Ye haven't an arm an ye haven't a leg,
harroo, harroo,
Yer a useless shell of a man wi a peg,
an ye'll have to be put wi a bowl to beg,
Jonny I hardly knew ye.

They're rollin out the guns again,
harroo, harroo,
but they'll never take me sons again,
Jonny I'm swearing to ye.

Hear Karan Casey sing it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t6bqTIQh1FI

Folk music is rich with anti-war songs, and I would particularly bow to Bob Dylan, and to Robert Burns. Here is one of his:

Gae fetch to me a pint 0' wine,
And fill it in a silver tassie;
That I may drink before I go,
A service to my bonie lassie:

The boat rocks at the Pier 0' Leith,
Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry,
The ship rides by the Berwick-Law,
And I maun leave my bonie Mary.

The trumpets sound, the banners fly
The glittering spears are ranked ready,
The shouts 0' war are heard afar,
The battle closes deep and bloody.

It's not the roar 0' sea or shore,
Wad mak me longer wish to tarry;
Nor shouts 0' war that's heard afar-
It's leaving thee, my bonie Mary!

[John Whitworth]

Tim, surely the Burns song, very beautiful, is not anti-war. Burns is quite pro-war, provided that the enemy is English.

Lay the proud usurper low.
Tyrants fall in every foe.
Liberty's in every blow.
Let us do or dee (die)!

[Ed Shacklee]

Karan Casey is my favorite interpreter of Joni Mitchell's "The Fiddle and the Drum," the lyrics of which, like many songs, may seem rather slight until you hear them sung. I'd also recommend her versions of "The King's Shilling" and "The Digger's Song."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WR33qde1Yf4

[Maryann Corbett]

Can I count "The Dove" as sung in English by Judy Collins? I'm not sure the texts I find online are correct. The original text is French, of course, and by Jacques Brel.

[David Rosenthal]

Interesting idea for a thread, Tim. Hard to pare down my responses.

Here is an obvious example from Dylan, here is Pearl Jam performing it. Eddie Vedder gives it a lot, IMO. I love how they end it.

MASTERS OF WAR

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it’s your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people’s blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You’ve thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain’t worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I’m young
You might say I’m unlearned
But there’s one thing I know
Though I’m younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death’ll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I’ll watch while you’re lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I’ll stand o’er your grave
’Til I’m sure that you’re dead




I love Dylan, but more and more, John Prine is becoming my favorite songwriter. I suppose "Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore" is more obvious a choice, but for my money, there are few more powerful anti-war songs than this:

SAM STONE

Sam Stone came home,
To the wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas.
And the time that he served,
Had shattered all his nerves,
And left a little shrapnel in his knees.
But the morhpine eased the pain,
And the grass grew round his brain,
And gave him all the confidence he lacked,
With a purple heart and a monkey on his back.

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.

Sam Stone's welcome home
Didn't last too long.
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
And soon he took to stealing
When he got that empty feeling
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime.
And the gold roared through his veins
Like a thousand railroad trains,
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose,
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes...

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.

Sam Stone was alone
When he popped his last balloon,
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair.
Well, he played his last request,
While the room smelled just like death,
With an overdose hovering in the air.
But life had lost it's fun,
There was nothing to be done,
But trade his house that he bought on the GI bill,
For a flag-draped casket on a local hero's hill.

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.

Here he is singing it.

David R.

[David Rosenthal]

Just so we can rest assured the tradition carries on here is a song by Green Day. They don't scan as well as Dylan and Prine, but Billie Joe Armstrong nails a few things down pretty well, if you ask me. Here's a live video.


HOLIDAY

Hear the sound of the falling rain
Coming down like an Armageddon flame
The shame, the ones who died without a name

Hear the dogs howling out of key
To a hymn called "Faith and Misery"
And bleed, the company lost the war today

I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies
This is the dawning of the rest of our lives
On Holiday

Hear the drum pounding out of time
Another protester has crossed the line
To find the money's on the other side

Can I get another Amen?
There's a flag wrapped around a score of men
A gag, a plastic bag on a monument

I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies
This is the dawning of the rest of our lives
On holiday

The representative from California has the floor:

Zieg Heil to the president gasman
Bombs away is your punishment
Pulverize the Eiffel towers
Who criticize your government
Bang, bang goes the broken glass
Kill all the fags that don't agree
Trials by fire, setting fire
Is not a way that's meant for me
Just cause, just cause, because we're outlaws, yeah

I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies
This is the dawning of the rest of our lives
I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies
This is the dawning of the rest of our lives
This is our lives on holiday


David R.

[Roger Slater]

Another great song whose lyrics die when divorced from their performance is Stevie Wonder's "Front Line."

And Johnny Cash doing "Drive On" is another.

[Nicholas F.]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L5pgrKSwFJE

[Tim Murphy]

Thanks for the Phil Ochs, Nick. Memory Lane. I think Dylan is a pretty awful poet, with major exceptions, like Tambourine Man, and this anthem from my youth:

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, ’n’ how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, ’n’ how many times must the cannonballs fly
Before they’re forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it’s washed to the sea?
Yes, ’n’ how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?
Yes, ’n’ how many times can a man turn his head
Pretending he just doesn’t see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind

How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, ’n’ how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, ’n’ how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind

[David Rosenthal]

Originally Posted by Tim Murphy

Thanks for the Phil Ochs, Nick. Memory Lane. I think Dylan is a pretty awful poet, with major exceptions, like Tambourine Man, and this anthem from my youth

Well I sorta thought "Blowin' In the Wind" went without saying. It is a masterpiece of folk song writing. He had many of those. But I agree that the master songwriter was not necessarily the poet he is often cracked up to be. Pound for pound, I'd say Prine is a better poet, by some distance, and Gillian Welch. But that is a topic for another thread I suppose...

David R.