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Subject: "WAR!" huh! what IS "it" good FOR! "music" rss

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Robert Wesley
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robot yeps we do needs some "grognardally" tunes in here eh:
#-1
the 'video' of the "song"


My my, at "Waterloo" Napoleon did surrender
Oh yeah, and I have met my destiny in quite a similar way
The history book on the shelf
Is always repeating itself...

Waterloo - I was defeated, you won the war
Waterloo - promise to love you for ever more
Waterloo - couldn't escape if I wanted to
Waterloo - knowing my fate is to be with you
whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Waterloo - finally facing my "Waterloo"

My my!...I tried to hold you back but you were stronger
Oh yeah!...and now it seems my only chance is giving up the fight
And how could I ever refuse?
I feel like I win when I lose...

Waterloo - I was defeated, you won the war
Waterloo - promise to love you for ever more
Waterloo - couldn't escape if I wanted to
Waterloo - knowing my fate is to be with you
whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Waterloo - finally facing my "Waterloo"
So how could I ever refuse?
I feel like I win when I lose

Waterloo - couldn't escape if I wanted to
Waterloo - knowing my fate is to be with you
whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Waterloo - finally facing my "Waterloo"
woo-ooo-OOO-ooo!
Waterloo - knowing my fate is to be with you
whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Waterloo - finally facing my "Waterloo"
sauron
surprise
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Robert Wesley
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#-2
ninja
the 'video' for the "song":


They crossed over the border the hour before dawn
Moving in lines through the day
Most of our planes were destroyed on the ground t`where they lay
Waiting for orders we held in the wood - word from the front never came
By evening the sound of the gunfire was miles away

Ah, softly we move through the shadows, slip away through the trees
Crossing their lines in the mists in the fields on our hands and our knees
And all that I ever was able to see
The fire in the air glowing red silhouetting the smoke on the breeze

All summer they drove us back through the Ukraine
Smolensk and Vyazma soon fell
By autumn we stood with our backs to the town of Orel
Closer and closer to Moscow they come
Riding the wind like a bell
General Guderian stands at the crest of the hill

Winter brought with her the rains, oceans of mud filled the roads
Gluing the tracks of their tanks to the ground while the sky filled with snow
And all that I ever... was able to SEE...
The fire in the air glowing red silhouetting the snow on the breeze

In the footsteps of Napoleon the shadow figures stagger through the winter
Falling back before the gates of Moscow
Standing in the wings like an avenger
And far away behind their lines the partisans are stirring in the forest
Coming unexpectedly upon their outposts, growing like a promise
You'll never know, you'll never know
Which way to turn, which way to look, you'll never see us
As we're stealing through the blackness of the night
You'll never know, you'll never hear us
And the evening sings in a voice of amber, the dawn is surely coming
The morning road leads to Stalingrad, and the sky is... softly humming

Two broken Tigers on fire in the night
Flicker their souls to the wind
We wait in the lines for the final approach to begin
It's been almost four years that I've carried a gun
At home it'll almost be spring
The flames of the Tigers are lighting the road to Berlin

Ahhh, quickly we move through the ruins that bow to the ground
The old men and children they send out to face us, they can't slow us down!
And all that I ever... was able to SEE...
The eyes of the city are opening now, it's the end of the dream...

I'm coming home, I'm coming home
Now you can taste it in the wind, the war is over
And I listen to the clicking of the train wheels as we roll across the border
And now they ask me of the time
When I was caught behind their lines and taken prisoner
"They only held me for a day, a lucky break", I say
They turn and listen closer
I'll never know, I'll never know
Why I was taken from the line and all the others
To board a special train and journey deep into the heart of holy Russia
And it's cold and damp in the transit camp, and the air is... still and sullen
And the pale sun of October whispers the snow will soon be coming
And I wonder when I'll be home again and the morning answers: "Never"
And the evening sighs and the steely Russian skies go on... forever...
zombie
 
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Robert Wesley
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#-3
sauron
the 'video' for the "song"


the "Queen of Light" took her bow
And then she turned to go
The "Prince of Peace" embraced the gloom
And walked the night alone

Ooooh... dance in the dark of night
Sing to the morning light
The dark Lord rides in force tonight
And time will tell us all

Ohhhh... throw down your plow and hoe...
Rest not to lock your homes
Side by side we await the might
Of the darkest of them all...

I hear the horses' thunder
Down in the valley below
I'm waiting for the "Angels of Avalon"
Waiting for the Eastern glow

The apples of the valley hold...
The seeds of happiness
The ground is rich from tender care
Repay, do not forget, oh NOo, NO...
Oooh,-------dance in the dark of night
sing to the morning light...
The apples turn to brown and black
The tyrant's face is RED...

Ooooh "WAR"! is the common cry...
Pick up you swords and "fly"...
The sky is filled with good and bad
That mortals never know, ohhh...

Oh, well, the night is long
The beads of time pass slow
Tired eyes on the sunrise
Waiting for the Eastern glow

The pain of War cannot exceed
The Woe of aftermath
The drums will shake the castle wall
The "Ring Wraiths" ride in black, RIDE... ON!
Sing as you raise your bow RIDE ON!
Shoot straighter than before
No comfort has the fire at night
That lights the face so cold...
Oooh...dance in the dark of night
Sing to the mornin' light
The magic 'runes' are writ in gold
To bring the balance back, Bring it BACK!

At last, the sun is shining
The clouds of blue roll by
With flames from the "Dragon of Darkness"
The sunlight blinds his EYES....

bring it BACK...
googoo
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Gwen
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# 4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDYe1K0-K1M

We met as soulmates
On Parris Island
We left as inmates
From an asylum
And we were sharp
As sharp as knives
And we were so gung ho
To lay down our lives

We came in spastic
Like tameless horses
We left in plastic
As numbered corpses
And we learned fast
To travel light
Our arms were heavy
But our bellies were tight

We had no home front
We had no soft soap
They sent us Playboy
They gave us Bob Hope
We dug in deep
And shot on sight
And prayed to Jesus Christ
With all of our might

We had no cameras
To shoot the landscape
We passed the hash pipe
And played our Doors tapes
And it was dark
So dark at night
And we held on to each other
Like brother to brother
We promised our mothers we'd write
And we would all go down together
We said we'd all go down together
Yes we would all go down together

Remember Charlie
Remember Baker
They left their childhood
On every acre
And who was wrong?
And who was right?
It didn't matter in the thick of the fight

We held the day
In the palm
Of our hand
They ruled the night
And the night
Seemed to last as long as six weeks
On Parris Island

We held the coastline
They held the highlands
And they were sharp
As sharp as knives
They heard the hum of our motors
They counted the rotors
And waited for us to arrive
And we would all go down together
We said we'd all go down together
Yes we would all go down together
 
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Robert Wesley
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#-5-WARNING! "offensive" to some:
the 'video' of the "song"


Well, come on all of you big strong men
"Uncle Sam" needs your help again
He's got himself in a terrible jam
Way down yonder in Vietnam
Put down your books and pick up a gun
We're gonna have a whole lotta fun!

And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn
Next stop is Vietnam

And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates
Well, there ain't no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're all gonna die!

Now, come on "Wall Street", don't be slow
Why man, this is war A-"go-go"
There's plenty good money to be made
Supplying the Army with the tools of the trade
Just hope and pray that if they drop the bomb
They drop it on the "Viet Cong"!

And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn
MY next stop is Vietnam

And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates
Well there ain't no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're all gonna die!

Now, come on generals, let's move fast!
Your big chance is HERE at last
Now you can go out and get those REDS
`cause the only good Commie is the one that's dead
And you know that peace can only be won
When we've blown 'em all to "Kingdom come"!
SING IT!

And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn
Next stop is Vietnam

And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates
Well, there ain't no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're all gonna die!

c'mon! and it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn
Next stop is Vietnam;

And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates
Well there ain't no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're all gonna die!

Now, come on mothers throughout the land
Pack your boys off to Vietnam
Come on fathers, don't hesitate
Send 'em off before it's too late!
Be the first one on your block
To have your boy come home in a box!
alright!

one, two, three,
What are we fighting for?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn
the next stop is Vietnam

And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates
Well, there ain't no time to wonder WHY
Whoopee! we're all gonna die!
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Stephan Rasmussen
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#6


http://www.virgin.net/music/musicvideos/ironmaiden_thetroope...

Youll take my life but Ill take yours too
Youll fire you musket but Ill run you through
So when your waiting for the next attack
Youd better stand theres no turning back

The bugle sounds as the charge begins
But on this battlefield no one wins
The smell of arcrid smoke and horses breath
As you plunge into a certain death

The horse he sweats with fear we break to run
The mighty roar of the russian guns
And as we race towards the human wall
The screams of pain as my comrades fall

We hurdle bodies that lay on the ground
And the russians fire another round
We get so near yet so far away
We wont live to fight another day

We get so close near enough to fight
When a russian gets me in his sights
He pulls the trigger and I feel the blow
A burst of rounds take my horse below

And as I lay there gazing at the sky
My bodys numb and my throat is dry
And as I lay forgotten and alone
Without a tear I draw my parting groan
 
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General George S. Patton's Speech to the Third Army - the Unabridged Edition

Somewhere in England June 5th, 1944

"Be seated."

Men, this stuff that some sources sling around about America wanting out of this war, not wanting to fight, is a crock of bullshit. Americans love to fight, traditionally. All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle.


You are here today for three reasons. First, because you are here to defend your homes and your loved ones. Second, you are here for your own self respect, because you would not want to be anywhere else. Third, you are here because you are real men and all real men like to fight. When you, here, every one of you, were kids, you all admired the champion marble player, the fastest runner, the toughest boxer, the big league ball players, and the All-American football players. Americans love a winner. Americans will not tolerate a loser. Americans despise cowards. Americans play to win all of the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That's why Americans have never lost nor will ever lose a war; for the very idea of losing is hateful to an American.


You are not all going to die. Only two percent of you right here today would die in a major battle. Death must not be feared. Death, in time, comes to all men. Yes, every man is scared in his first battle. If he says he's not, he's a liar. Some men are cowards but they fight the same as the brave men or they get the hell slammed out of them watching men fight who are just as scared as they are. The real hero is the man who fights even though he is scared. Some men get over their fright in a minute under fire. For some, it takes an hour. For some, it takes days. But a real man will never let his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood.


Battle is the most magnificent competition in which a human being can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base. Americans pride themselves on being He Men and they ARE He Men. Remember that the enemy is just as frightened as you are, and probably more so. They are not supermen.


All through your Army careers, you men have bitched about what you call "chicken shit drilling." That, like everything else in this Army, has a definite purpose. That purpose is alertness. Alertness must be bred into every soldier. I don't give a fuck for a man who's not always on his toes. You men are veterans or you wouldn't be here. You are ready for what's to come. A man must be alert at all times if he expects to stay alive. If you're not alert, sometime, a German son-of-an-asshole-bitch is going to sneak up behind you and beat you to death with a sockful of shit! There are four hundred neatly marked graves somewhere in Sicily, all because one man went to sleep on the job. But they are German graves, because we caught the bastard asleep before they did.


An Army is a team. It lives, sleeps, eats, and fights as a team. This individual heroic stuff is pure horse shit. The bilious bastards who write that kind of stuff for the Saturday Evening Post don't know any more about real fighting under fire than they know about fucking! We have the finest food, the finest equipment, the best spirit, and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity those poor sons-of-bitches we're going up against. By God, I do.


My men don't surrender, and I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he has been hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight back. That's not just bull shit either. The kind of man that I want in my command is just like the lieutenant in Libya, who, with a Luger against his chest, jerked off his helmet, swept the gun aside with one hand, and busted the hell out of the Kraut with his helmet. Then he jumped on the gun and went out and killed another German before they knew what the hell was coming off. And, all of that time, this man had a bullet through a lung. There was a real man!


All of the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters, either. Every single man in this Army plays a vital role. Don't ever let up. Don't ever think that your job is unimportant. Every man has a job to do and he must do it. Every man is a vital link in the great chain. What if every truck driver suddenly decided that he didn't like the whine of those shells overhead, turned yellow, and jumped headlong into a ditch? The cowardly bastard could say, 'Hell, they won't miss me, just one man in thousands.' But, what if every man thought that way? Where in the hell would we be now? What would our country, our loved ones, our homes, even the world, be like? No, Goddamnit, Americans don't think like that. Every man does his job. Every man serves the whole. Every department, every unit, is important in the vast scheme of this war. The ordnance men are needed to supply the guns and machinery of war to keep us rolling. The Quartermaster is needed to bring up food and clothes because where we are going there isn't a hell of a lot to steal. Every last man on K.P. has a job to do, even the one who heats our water to keep us from getting the 'G.I. Shits.'


Each man must not think only of himself, but also of his buddy fighting beside him. We don't want yellow cowards in this Army. They should be killed off like rats. If not, they will go home after this war and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the Goddamned cowards and we will have a nation of brave men. One of the bravest men that I ever saw was a fellow on top of a telegraph pole in the midst of a furious fire fight in Tunisia. I stopped and asked what the hell he was doing up there at a time like that. He answered, 'Fixing the wire, Sir.' I asked, 'Isn't that a little unhealthy right about now?' He answered, 'Yes Sir, but the Goddamned wire has to be fixed.' I asked, 'Don't those planes strafing the road bother you?' And he answered, 'No, Sir, but you sure as hell do!' Now, there was a real man. A real soldier. There was a man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty might appear at the time, no matter how great the odds.


And you should have seen those trucks on the rode to Tunisia. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they rolled over those son-of-a-bitching roads, never stopping, never faltering from their course, with shells bursting all around them all of the time. We got through on good old American guts.


Many of those men drove for over forty consecutive hours. These men weren't combat men, but they were soldiers with a job to do. They did it, and in one hell of a way they did it. They were part of a team. Without team effort, without them, the fight would have been lost. All of the links in the chain pulled together and the chain became unbreakable.


Don't forget, you men don't know that I'm here. No mention of that fact is to be made in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell happened to me. I'm not supposed to be commanding this Army. I'm not even supposed to be here in England. Let the first bastards to find out be the Goddamned Germans. Someday I want to see them raise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl, 'Jesus Christ, it's the Goddamned Third Army again and that son-of-a-fucking-bitch Patton.' We want to get the hell over there." The quicker we clean up this Goddamned mess, the quicker we can take a little jaunt against the purple pissing Japs and clean out their nest, too. Before the Goddamned Marines get all of the credit.


Sure, we want to go home. We want this war over with. The quickest way to get it over with is to go get the bastards who started it. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we can go home. The shortest way home is through Berlin and Tokyo. And when we get to Berlin, I am personally going to shoot that paper hanging son-of-a-bitch Hitler. Just like I'd shoot a snake!


When a man is lying in a shell hole, if he just stays there all day, a German will get to him eventually. The hell with that idea. The hell with taking it. My men don't dig foxholes. I don't want them to. Foxholes only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. And don't give the enemy time to dig one either. We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by fighting and by showing the Germans that we've got more guts than they have; or ever will have. We're not going to just shoot the sons-of-bitches, we're going to rip out their living Goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We're going to murder those lousy Hun cock suckers by the bushel-fucking-basket.


War is a bloody, killing business. You've got to spill their blood, or they will spill yours. Rip them up the belly. Shoot them in the guts. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt off your face and realize that instead of dirt it's the blood and guts of what once was your best friend beside you, you'll know what to do!


I don't want to get any messages saying, 'I am holding my position.' We are not holding a Goddamned thing. Let the Germans do that. We are advancing constantly and we are not interested in holding onto anything, except the enemy's balls. We are going to twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all of the time. Our basic plan of operation is to advance and to keep on advancing regardless of whether we have to go over, under, or through the enemy. We are going to go through him like crap through a goose; like shit through a tin horn!


From time to time there will be some complaints that we are pushing our people too hard. I don't give a good Goddamn about such complaints. I believe in the old and sound rule that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder WE push, the more Germans we will kill. The more Germans we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that.


There is one great thing that you men will all be able to say after this war is over and you are home once again. You may be thankful that twenty years from now when you are sitting by the fireplace with your grandson on your knee and he asks you what you did in the great World War II, you WON'T have to cough, shift him to the other knee and say, 'Well, your Granddaddy shoveled shit in Louisiana.' No, Sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say, 'Son, your Granddaddy rode with the Great Third Army and a Son-of-a- Goddamned-Bitch named Georgie Patton!'


"That is all."
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Gwen
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# 8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Rsy_5lelxo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYIktnk35O4

In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
 
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Gwen
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# 9

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ctTFHbiP7wY

"What we've got here is failure to communicate.
Some men you just can't reach...
So, you get what we had here last week,
which is the way he wants it!
Well, he gets it!
N' I don't like it any more than you men." *


Look at your young men fighting
Look at your women crying
Look at your young men dying
The way they've always done before


Look at the hate we're breeding
Look at the fear we're feeding
Look at the lives we're leading
The way we've always done before


My hands are tied
The billions shift from side to side
And the wars go on with brainwashed pride
For the love of God and our human rights
And all these things are swept aside
By bloody hands time can't deny
And are washed away by your genocide
And history hides the lies of our civil wars


D'you wear a black armband
When they shot the man
Who said "Peace could last forever"
And in my first memories
They shot Kennedy
I went numb when I learned to see
So I never fell for Vietnam
We got the wall of D.C. to remind us all
That you can't trust freedom
When it's not in your hands
When everybody's fightin'
For their promised land


And
I don't need your civil war
It feeds the rich while it buries the poor
Your power hungry sellin' soldiers
In a human grocery store
Ain't that fresh
I don't need your civil war


Look at the shoes your filling
Look at the blood we're spilling
Look at the world we're killing
The way we've always done before
Look in the doubt we've wallowed
Look at the leaders we've followed
Look at the lies we've swallowed
And I don't want to hear no more


My hands are tied
For all I've seen has changed my mind
But still the wars go on as the years go by
With no love of God or human rights
'Cause all these dreams are swept aside
By bloody hands of the hypnotized
Who carry the cross of homicide
And history bears the scars of our civil wars


"We practice selective annihilation of mayors
And government officials
For example to create a vacuum
Then we fill that vacuum
As popular war advances
Peace is closer" **


I don't need your civil war
It feeds the rich while it buries the poor
Your power hungry sellin' soldiers
In a human grocery store
Ain't that fresh
And I don't need your civil war
I don't need your civil war
I don't need your civil war
Your power hungry sellin' soldiers
In a human grocery store
Ain't that fresh
I don't need your civil war
I don't need one more war


I don't need one more war
Whaz so civil 'bout war anyway
 
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How tall is justice?
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#10

He blesses the boys, as they stand in line
The smell of gun grease and their bayonets they shine
He's there to help them all that he can
To make them feel wanted he's a good holy man

Sky Pilot
Sky Pilot
How high can you fly?
You'll never, never, never, reach the sky


He smiles at the young soldiers, tells them it's all right
He knows of their fear in the forthcoming fight
Soon there'll be blood and many will die
Mothers and fathers back home they will cry

Sky Pilot
Sky Pilot
How high can you fly?
You'll never, never, never, reach the sky


He mumbles a prayer and it ends with a smile
The order is given, they move down the line
But he'll stay behind, and he'll meditate
But it won't stop the bleeding, or ease the hate

As the young men move out into the battle zone
He feels good, with God you're never alone
He feels so tired as he lays on his bed
Hopes the men will find courage in the words that he said

Sky Pilot
Sky Pilot
How high can you fly?
You'll never, never, never, reach the sky


In the morning they return with tears in their eyes
The stench of death lifts up to the skies
A young soldier so ill, looks at the Sky Pilot
Remembers the words 'Thou shalt not kill'.

Sky Pilot
Sky Pilot
How high can you fly?
You'll never, never, never, reach the sky
 
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#11

Oh, the year was seventeen seventy-eight
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
A Letter of Marque came from the King
To the scummiest vessel I'd ever seen

God Damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers


Oh Elcid Barrett, cried the town
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
For twenty brave men, all fishermen, who
Would make for him the Antelope's crew

God Damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers


The Antelope sloop was a sickening sight
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
She'd a' list to port and her sails in rags
And a cook in the scuppers with staggers and jags

God Damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers


On the King's birthday we put to sea
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
We were ninety-one days to Montego Bay
Pumping like madmen all the way

God Damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers


On the ninety-sixth day we sailed again
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
When a bloody great Yankee hove in sight
With our cracked four-pounders we made to fight

God Damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers


The Yankee lay low down with gold
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
She was broad and fat and loose in stays
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days

God Damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers


Then at length we stood two cables away
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
Our cracked four-pounders made an awful din
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in

God Damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers


The Antelope shook and pitched on her side
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs
And the maintruck carried off both me legs

God Damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers


So here I lay in my twenty-third year
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
It's been six years since we sailed away
And I just made Halifax yesterday

God Damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers

 
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How tall is justice?
Canada
Georgetown
Ontario
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Who IS this masked man? And WHY has he never been photographed together with 6 year old millionaire playboy Calvin?
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I see a world that's tired and scared of living on the edge too long.
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#12

These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be
Some day youll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And youll no longer burn
To be brothers in arms

Through these fields of destruction
Baptisms of fire
I've watched all your suffering
As the battles raged higher
And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms

There's so many different worlds
So many differents suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones

Now the sun's gone to hell
And the moon's riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die
But it's written in the starlight
And every line on your palm
Were fools to make war
On our brothers in arms
 
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How tall is justice?
Canada
Georgetown
Ontario
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#13

Virgil Caine is my name, and I served on the Danville train
'Til Stoneman's cavalry came and tore up the tracks again
In the winter of '65
We were hungry, just barely alive.
By May the tenth, Richmond had fell
It's a time I remember oh so well

The night they drove ol' Dixie down
And the bells were ringin'
The night they drove ol' Dixie down
And the people were singin'
They went, "la, la la la la la"
"La la, la la, la la la la la"


Back with my wife in Tennessee, when one day she called to me
"Virgil, quick, come see, there goes Robert E. Lee!"
Now I don't mind choppin' wood
And I don't care if the money's no good
You take what you need and you leave the rest
But they should never have taken the very best

The night they drove ol' Dixie down
And the bells were ringin'
The night they drove ol' Dixie down
And all the people were singin'
They went, "la, la la la la la"
"La la, la la, la la la la la"


Like my father before me, I'm a workin' man
Like my brother above me, I took a rebel stand
He was just eighteen, proud and brave
But a Yankee laid him in his grave
I swear by the blood below my feet
You can't raise a Caine back up when he's in defeat.

The night they drove ol' Dixie down
And all the bells were ringin'
The night they drove ol' Dixie down
And all the people were singin'
They went, "la, la la la la la"
"La la, la la, la la la la la"

The night they drove ol' Dixie down
And all the bells were ringin'
The night they drove ol' Dixie down
And all the people were singin'
They went, "la, la la la la la"
"La la, la la, la la la la la"
 
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Geoff Bohrer
United States
Hereford
Arizona
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We're gonna wake this city tonight
Oh, watch it burn into the twilight
I said hey, hey, hey this is our birthright
To be bought and sold, shipped off ready to die. We're ready to fight.

We're going bom bom bom. Bom bom away bom.
Bom bom, bom bom.
We go bom bom, bom bom away bom. Bom bom, bom bom.

I can't drink or drive a tank at nineteen
So I set off to join the U.S. Army
The first time I left my country
I felt the desert sand marchin' under my feet. Come march with me.

We're going bom bom bom. Bom bom away bom.
Bom bom, bom bom.
We go bom bom, bom bom away bom. Bom bom, bom bom.

We're gonna take this city tonight
We're gonna shake this city 'til broad daylight
We're gonna take this city tonight
We're gonna shake this city 'til broad daylight
Shake it. Oh shake it.

I said: No NYC, Los Angeles
No Saint Louis, no New Orleans
No you and me, no you and me, no sympathy
Cause we're gonna bring them, bring them to their knees

We go bom bom bom, bom bom away bom. Bom bom, bom bom.
We go bom bom, bom bom away bom. Bom bom, bom bom.

We're gonna take this city tonight
We're gonna shake this city 'til broad daylight
We're gonna take this city tonight
We're gonna shake this city 'til broad daylight
Shake it. No brights lights, no more big city.
Shake it. No brights lights, no more big city.
Shake it. No brights lights, no more big city.
Shake it. No brights lights, no more big city.
 
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Jorgen
United States
Ferndale
California
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Wolfpack, by the band Sabaton.

General Quarters, General Quarters, All hands man your battle stations!

To their own shore, Came the World War
Gleaves and Ingham, Leading the Bury west

Took the short way in
The long route back, Convoy 92
Bury, Gleaves and Ingham leading tankers to the west
And upon the north Atlantic
Lies the silence of the seas
On a quiet night in the darkest hour, The Kriegsmarine appear!

Above the surface it seems quiet and calm
Deep down below the Wolfpack lurks

To their own shore, Came the World War
Gleaves and Ingham
Leading the Bury west
In their own track, Came the Wolfpack
Gleaves led the conwoy
Into the hornets nest

At the crack of dawn the second day
Bury stands in flames
Half the convoy sunk or disabled
Heading back to shore
But below the north Atlantic
On the bottom of the sea
On the second night, In the darkest hour, The Kriegsmarine returns!

The Wolfpack surface for a second time
To make the convoy face it's fate

To their own shore, Came the World War
Gleaves and the Ingham
Leading the Bury west
In their own track, Came the Wolfpack
Gleaves led the convoy
Into the hornets nest

Under fire, Under water
May 42, When Bury did fail the test
To their own shore, Came the World War
Gleaves and the Ingham
Leading them into death

569 makes the contact and lead them
U-94 scores a kill in the dark
124 sinking 4 in 2 approaches
406 suffers failure on launch

U-569 makes the contact and lead them
U-94 scores a kill in the dark
U-124 sinking 4 in 2 approaches
U-406 suffers failure on launch

In their own track, Came the Wolfpack
Gleaves led the convoy
Into the hornets nest
To their own shore, Came the World War
Gleaves and the Ingham
Leading the Bury west

In their own track, Came the Wolfpack
Gleaves led the convoy
Into the hornets nest
Under fire, Under water
May 42, When Bury did fail the test
To their own shore, Came the World War
Gleaves and the Ingham
Leading them into death
 
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Jorgen
United States
Ferndale
California
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"Light in the Black" by the same band.

Sent into battle to aid strangers in need
Gain independence, Our forces will lead
Final solution when all others have failed
Liberation is coming, Our path has been laid

We remember the fields, where our tanks held the line
We remember our brothers in arms

When the war, has been won
And our march home begins
What awaits has not yet been revealed
What was won? What was lost?
Will our deeds be remembered?
Are they written on stone or in sand?


Marching ashore, our target awaits
Facing resistance, forces driven by hate
Protecting civilians, while fired upon
Rules of engagement, our restrictions are gone

We remember the sea, where our ships broke the waves
We remember our brothers in arms

When the war, has been won
And our march home begins
What awaits has not yet been revealed
What was won? What was lost?
Will our deeds be remembered?
Are they written on stone or in sand?


Leaving home, set to sea
Was this really meant to be?
See the shore of our home fade away
Facing blood, facing pain
Have our brothers died in vain?
Many lives has been lost on the way

When the war, has been won
And our march home begins
What awaits has not yet been revealed
What was won? What was lost?
Will our deeds be remembered?
Are they written on stone or in sand?
 
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Uffe
Sweden
Stockholm
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Mobilization, science, religion, domination, communication...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBn6Mr34LGA
 
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Jorgen
United States
Ferndale
California
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Burzum wrote:
Mobilization, science, religion, domination, communication...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBn6Mr34LGA


Although they look like Nazis, Laibach is much better then Rammstein.
 
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Jorgen
United States
Ferndale
California
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Death or Glory by Motörhead, A theme song for Wargamers?

I saw the millions, the naked and the dead
I saw the city streets running bloody red
I saw a thousand bombers circle in the sky
I saw the firestorm fifty stores high

I saw a hundred thousand scream and burn
I saw the armored wheels grind and turn
Universal soldier, doomed to live to tell
Fight and die forever, burn in bloody hell

Death or Glory, Death or Glory
March forever in the sound and fury
Death or Glory, Death or Glory
Blood and iron, it's the same old story

I held the Iron Cross, first class with the swords
I marched with Hitler down the bloody road to war
I was at Jutland loading 'till the gun was hot
Killed at Trafalgar without firing a shot

I was at Moscow, burning in my tank
I was at Shiloh, marching in the ranks
I was a Sturmbannfuhrer fighting in Berlin
I was a Russian Hero dying for Stalin

Death or glory, Death or glory
March forever in the sound and fury
Death or glory, Death or glory
Blood and iron, it's the same old story

I swung a saber and I was a young Hussar
I was a Cossack, fighting for the Czar
I was a Viking, Berserker from the North
A Roman Gladiator murdered just for sport

I was with Bonaparte, I died at Waterloo
I was a Frankish Knight, a Polish Jew
I was a Spartan in the Trojan Wars
I was a warrior for Crazy Horse

Death or Glory, Death or Glory
March forever in the sound and fury
Death or Glory, Death or Glory
The Lone Survivor but no comfort for me
Death or Glory, Death or Glory
Executioner, Judge and Jury
Death or Glory, Death or Glory
Blood and iron, it's the same old story
Auf Stehen!
 
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June King
United States
Unspecified
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Billy Don't Be A Hero
( Bo Donaldson and the Heywoods )

The marchin' band came down along Main Street
The soldier blues fell in behind
I looked across and there I saw Billy
Waiting to go and join the line
And with her head upon his shoulder
His young and lovely fiancee
From where I stood I saw she was cryin'
And through her tears I heard her say

Billy, don't be a hero, don't be a fool with your life
Billy, don't be a hero, come back and make me your wife
And as he started to go she said, Billy, keep your head low
Billy, don't be a hero, come back to me

The soldier blues were trapped on a hillside
The battle raging all around
The sergeant cried, We've got to hang on, boys!
We've got to hold this piece of ground
I need a volunteer to ride up
And bring us back some extra men
And Billy's hand was up in a moment
Forgettin' all the words she said

She said
Billy, don't be a hero, don't be a fool with your life
Billy, don't be a hero, come back and make me your wife
And as he started to go she said, Billy, keep your head low
Billy, don't be a hero, come back to me

I heard his fiancee got a letter
That told how Billy died that day
The letter said that he was a hero
She should be proud he died that way
I heard she threw that letter away ...
 
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Chris Johnson
United States
New York
New York
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Jesus, Patten was psychopath.
2 
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The amazing & fabulous
Australia
Sarina
Queensland
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Mum and Dad and Denny saw the passing out parade at Puckapunyal
(1t was long march from cadets).
The sixth battalion was the next to tour and It was me who drew the card.
We did Canungra and Shoalwater before we left.

Chorus I:
And Townsville lined the footpath as we marched down to the quay.
This clipping from the paper shows us young and strong and clean.
And there's me in my slouch hat with my SLR and greens.
God help me, I was only nineteen.

From Vung Tau riding Chinooks to the dust at Nui Dat,
I'd been in and out of choppers now for months.
But we made our tents a home. V.B. and pinups on the lockers,
And an Asian orange sunset through the scrub.

Chorus 2:
And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
And night time's just a jungle dark and a barking M.16?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only nineteen.

A four week operation, when each step can mean your last one
On two legs: it was a war within yourself.
But you wouldn't let your mates down 'til they had you dusted off,
So you closed your eyes and thought about something else.

Chorus 3:
Then someone yelled out "Contact"', and the bloke behind me swore.
We hooked in there for hours, then a God almighty roar.
Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon.
God help me, he was going home in June.

1 can still see Frankie, drinking tinnies in the Grand Hotel
On a thirty-six hour rec. leave in Vung Tau.
And I can still hear Frankie, lying screaming in the jungle.
'Till the morphine came and killed the bloody row

Chorus 4:
And the Anzac legends didn't mention mud and blood and tears.
And stories that my father told me never seemed quite real
I caught some pieces In my back that I didn't even feel.
God help me, I was only nineteen.

Chorus 5:
And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
And why the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only nineteen.
 
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Geoff King
United States
Annandale
Virginia
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Motorhead - Deaf Forever

Stoneface dog, swirling fog, gates open on the dark dark night
Standing stone, skull and bone, dead witness to an unseen fight
Beat the drum, beat the drum, beat forever on the endless march
Stricken dumb, cut and run, someone is screaming and the sky is dark

[Chorus]
Sword and shield, bone and steel, rictus grin
Deaf forever to the battles din

March or croak, flame and smoke, burn forever in eternal pain
Charge and fall, bugle call, bone splinter in the driving rain
Horses scream, Viking dream, drowned heroes in a lake of blood
Armoured fist, severed wrist, broken spears in a sea of mud

[Repeat chorus]

Mother earth, mother earth enfold you in her cold embrace
Sinking down, killing ground, worm crawling on your cold white face
Win or lose, nought to choose, all men are equal when their memory fades
No one knows, friends or foes, if Valhalla lies beyond the grave
 
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Geoff King
United States
Annandale
Virginia
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Place of Skulls - Long Lost Grave

Twenty years in Missouri, when I left the trees were green
Answered the call of fury, to fight for our beliefs
My uniform is splendid, my rifle clean
Mother I'll write you letters, tell you what I see.

The cannon balls come screamin' ears filled with cries and moans
Sometimes I think I'm dreamin', blood on the snow
Now my belly's burnin', their lead has found its mark
So cold my legs are turnin', the world is goin' dark

I don't claim to understand the force that drives this man
Just my faith in what I'm told, bravery is gold
Mother it seems a shame to die so far away
Will someone send me home

I don't claim to comprehend the feud between these men
All I know is what I see, they don't care for me
All the glory's lies, left me here to die
Alone and cryin' I bleed.
 
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Geoff King
United States
Annandale
Virginia
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Iron Maiden - Aces High

There goes the siren that warns off the air raid
Then comes the sound of the guns sending flak
Out for the scramble we've got to get airborne
Got to get up for the coming attack.

Jump in the cockpit and start up the engines
Remove all the wheel blocks
there's no time to waste
Gathering speed as we head down the runway
Gotta get airborne before it's too late

Running, scrambling, flying
Rolling, turning, diving, going in again
Run, live to fly, fly to live, do or die
Run, live to fly, fly to live, Aces high

Move in to fire at the mainstream of bombers
Let off a sharp burst and then turn away
Roll over, spin round and come in behind them
Move to their blindsides and firing again

Bandits at 8 o'clock move in behind us
Ten ME-109's out of the sun
Ascending and turning out spitfires to face them
Heading straight for them I press my guns.

Rolling, turning, diving
Rolling, turning, diving, goin' again
Run, live to fly, fly to live, do or die
Run, live to fly, fly to live, Aces high.
 
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