1. |
Five Gallon Bucket
04:06
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Well there's a five-gallon bucket
in the back of my truck
I keep it there
In case I run out of luck,
'cause It will hold anything
from water to gas
when shit hits the fan,
it's gonna save my ass
when shit hits the fan,
it's gonna save my ass
I poke holes in the bottom
and plant anything
potatoes in winter
and black-berries in spring,
It's an old fishin' buddy
with cast net inside
and no little corners,
where minnows can hide
Is there anything,
a five-gallon bucket can't do?
you can store all your rice
and your pinto beans too,
you can grow your tomaters
ferment your home-brew,
is there anything
a five gallon bucket can't do?
Its the very best trash can
you can find anywhere
sawdust and cinders,
are perfect in there
and when you really can't wait,
and ain't no-one around
a five gallon bucket
beats a hole in the ground.
five gallons of red wheat,
or chum for catfish
five gallons of concrete
holds down what you wish
step ladder, a kick drum
did I mention home-brew?
no there's nothin, a five gallon bucket can't do.
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2. |
Revolution Is You
04:25
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you pull yourself up
But they keep ...bringin you down
Are they gonna bail you out?
Or just, run you around
They said you should have a
house
It’s the ‘merican way
Dollar down, a dollar a month
And you’ll never have to pay
But there’s a better way to do this
Let me show you a better way
(refrain)
You don't have to be,
another face In the crowd,
You don't have to live the way they
want you to,
Make your own way,
and the others will follow
The revolution is you
It’s in our food these days,
you know it’s on our TV,
Sometimes we forget that we
are what we eat
I don’t know the answer,
it’s like there’s nothin’ I can do
It’s the price we pay, I guess,
if we follow all the rules
(refrain)
Someday day we’ll realize
our children just can’t pay,
And nobody up there cares,
they’re livin’ for toda......yyyyy
(refrain)
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3. |
Tehran
03:48
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Tehran, Tehran...
What's your bigger plan?
I wonder where you stand?
You're price, not free...
Don't you mess with me...
Please don't mess with me...ss
Do you know?
Where to go?
No I don't know.
Do you know?
Well let's all pack...
up and go,
to Tehran!
Tehran, Tehran...
I'm your biggest fan
I'm your biggest fan
But still, you see
fit to murder me
fit to murder me...
drivin' through the flames, into...the fire.
All the anger that your streets...inspire.
he still loves your hills and trees
he still loves your hills and trees...
Tehran, Tehran...
And your crazy man
He's a crazy man
Your kids, they see...
want to be like me
they wanna be like me
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4. |
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5. |
.50 Cal
04:48
|
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Another night out on my patrol
Got a lookout for un-savory men
I've got a laser and I've got helmet
I've got a duty to take my revenge
Forty-two nights ago I saw him comin'
Chasin' my seargant with a beat up AK
Sarge turned around but before he could cry out
He passed from this world in a .30 Cal. spray
I won't lie
I want the bastard dead
I've got my M16, my butter and my bread
But I'd like to put
a bigger hole in his head
Let's use the fifty-caliber instead
Let's use the fifty-caliber instead
Throw out all the two twenty three
I've only got ammo for the Barrett
I don't have nothin back home left to live for
Infadel's terror I bring to this town
Shadows in arches, I locate my target
Same crappy boots and a shit-eatin grin
Put down the bipod and thank God for Varget
I'm gonna make this right for my friend
Here comes my patrol
Coordinates in hand
I'm gonna lay out my route
to eliminate this man... where he stands...
[Verse 1]
Another night out on my patrol
Got a lookout for un-savory men
I've got a laser and I've got helmet
I've got a duty to take my revenge
Forty-two nights ago I saw him comin'
Chasin' my seargant with a beat up AK
Sarge turned around but before he could cry out
He passed from this world in a .30 Cal. spray
I won't lie
I want the bastard dead
I've got my M16, my butter and my bread
But I'd like to put
a bigger hole in his head
Let's use the fifty-caliber instead
Let's use the fifty-caliber instead
[Verse 2]
Throw out all the two twenty three
I've only got ammo for the Barrett
I don't have nothin back home left to live for
Infadel's terror I bring to this town
Shadows in arches, I locate my target
Same crappy boots and a shit-eatin grin
Put down the bipod and thank God for Varget
I'm gonna make this right for my friend
Here comes my patrol
Coordinates in hand
I'm gonna lay out my route
to eliminate this man... where he stands...
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Gregg Yows Austin, Texas
This is the home of libertarian southern alt-country produced and performed by award-winning songwriter, Greg
Jamison.
I am a simple songwriter. My cause is making sure our kids enjoy freedom from the tyrannical, over-taxing, nanny-state government that is currently plaguing our nation. I write songs about it. Maybe it will make some sort of difference. Probably not...but maybe.
... more
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