for every one who ever thought clinton was a joke
so we're at some pub, buena vista or i dont know. its me and the my friend sunni, sunni, sunni hes only telling me about how all the girl back packers know about his dick,"my dick is the most famous in eastern europe, in all the balkins" this is all he ever seems to be talking about,he works as a tour guide, thats how we met. any how thats not the point. so we are in the back of the pub, i was nervous and only my second beer i couldnt go out there yet.
the hienken girl, she came running out of the front room, "hey american you have to see this"
"for fuck sakes man, im trying to get drunk here" i mutter out bleakly, looking only at my heiniken.she grabs my arm and takes my in to the party.
every one is on tables singing, danicing, every where behind the bar, what ever, there clapping above ther heads, spinning, their alive damn it. alive. the folks song bellows out over us all, i am happy, i think to my self.
but this is nothing new, ive seen this a million times. then evry one turns to me, screaming hey american, then singing.
sunni comes up to me, he says, "this is an old folk song, you know. after the war we added a part to it. now it is saying that bill clinton is coming. it is saying that he is the bearer of democracy, a king of liberty.it is our favorite song"
i look at him, i go the republicans at home will love this.
he says to me,"bush doesnt get songs liket this"
god damn i say, that must of been some good fucking he head.
and agian they repeat the song, again there is life here.
out side the snow is falling, the pigeons are freezing and wet the cats are waiting to be pet. the streets are paitent, and one day theyll be rebuilt.
out side theres all those bullet holes and chunks of never forgeting war. above us all around us, is the now abandon sniper line,
the girl that use to live in detroit, her mother was shot by snipers, snipers that hid up in those trees.
and right then all i wanted was to know how to sing.
the hienken girl, she came running out of the front room, "hey american you have to see this"
"for fuck sakes man, im trying to get drunk here" i mutter out bleakly, looking only at my heiniken.she grabs my arm and takes my in to the party.
every one is on tables singing, danicing, every where behind the bar, what ever, there clapping above ther heads, spinning, their alive damn it. alive. the folks song bellows out over us all, i am happy, i think to my self.
but this is nothing new, ive seen this a million times. then evry one turns to me, screaming hey american, then singing.
sunni comes up to me, he says, "this is an old folk song, you know. after the war we added a part to it. now it is saying that bill clinton is coming. it is saying that he is the bearer of democracy, a king of liberty.it is our favorite song"
i look at him, i go the republicans at home will love this.
he says to me,"bush doesnt get songs liket this"
god damn i say, that must of been some good fucking he head.
and agian they repeat the song, again there is life here.
out side the snow is falling, the pigeons are freezing and wet the cats are waiting to be pet. the streets are paitent, and one day theyll be rebuilt.
out side theres all those bullet holes and chunks of never forgeting war. above us all around us, is the now abandon sniper line,
the girl that use to live in detroit, her mother was shot by snipers, snipers that hid up in those trees.
and right then all i wanted was to know how to sing.