Songs Of The Movement

by digby

The other day I dubbed Michael Bérubé “the Woody Guthrie of the teabag movement,” for his moving epitaph for the United States of America, called “The Night The Country Died.” It seems his readers were moved to contribute their own efforts to the new teabag protest ouvre.

Here’s one example:

The despot’s heel is on thy shore,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!
His torch is at thy boardroom door,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!
Avenge the patriotic gore
Shed by Obama, Reid, and Gore,
And be the battle queen of yore,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!

Come! ‘tis like Red Dawn! Wolverines!
Free Market, Oh Free Market!
Come with thy frenzied states’ rights schemes,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!
With Limbaugh’s spirit for the fray,
With Glenn Beck’s tears on screen all day,
With Bachmann’s rants and Wilson’s screams,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!

Dear Mother! burst the tyrant’s chain,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!
Grandma should not call in vain!
Free Market, Oh Free Market!
She meets her sisters on the plain-
“Sic semper!” ‘tis the proud refrain
That baffles minions back amain,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!

Thou wilt not yield the vandal toll,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!
Thou wilt not crook to his control,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!
Better the fire upon thee roll,
Better the blade, the shot, the bowl,
Than crucifixion of the soul,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!

I hear the distant thunder-hum,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!
The Old Line’s bugle, fife, and drum,
Free Market, Oh Free Market!
She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb-
Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum!
She breathes! she burns! she’ll come! she’ll come!
Free Market, Oh Free Market!

Posted by rm

And this:

I dreamed they passed the Bill last night,
Those friends of Mao and Ché.
Says I, “You didn’t have no votes.”
“We had enough,” says they.
“We had enough,” says they.
“When Scott Brown won,” says I to them,
Them standing by my bed,
“You folks were looking mighty blue.”
Says they, “We’re turning Red.”
Says they, “We’re turning Red.”
“The talking heads denounced your Bill,
They shot it down,” says I.
“Takes half the votes to kill a Bill,”
Says they, “It didn’t die.”
Says they, “It didn’t die.”
And standing there as big as life
Each face split by a smile,
They says, “What they forgot to kill
Went on to reconcile,
Went on to reconcile.”
“The Bill ain’t dead,” they says to me,
“The Bill ain’t never died.
When working men are sick in bed
The Bill is at their side,
The Bill is at their side.”
“From San Diego up to Maine,
In every mine and mill,
Where workers need some health care help,”
Says they, “You’ll find the Bill,”
Says they, “You’ll find the Bill.”
I dreamed they passed the Bill last night,
Those friends of Mao and Ché.
Says I, “You didn’t have no votes.”
“We had enough,” says they.
“We had enough,” says they.

There’s more where that came from at the link.

Here’s my (very) modest contribution to the genre:

How many pols must a man shout down,
before you admit he’s the man?
How many plans must Paul Ryan unfurl,
before you’ll bow down to Ayn Rand?
yes and how many times must you shout “Kill The Bill,”
before they will all understand?

The answer my friend is blowing in the wind,
the answer is blowing in the wind.

How many times must Rove tell you to stop
inflaming the Real Americans
how many taunts must the teabaggers take
from people with Parkinson’s
yes and how many times must Beck froth on TV,
before they drop their grip on sanity?

The answer my friend is blowing in the wind,
the answer is blowing in the wind.

How many times must a teabagger scream,
before UnReal Americans will heed.
yes and how many times must one teabagger freak,
before they’ll drop down to their knees?
Yes and how many threats will it take till they know,
that only white people can lead?

The answer my friend is blowing in the wind,
the answer is blowing in the wind.

everybody!

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