Johnny Strikes Up the Band - Warren Zevon

Living off the friends we made Never ever getting paid Kicking ass and paying dues Lose our mind in self abuse Loving ladies by the score Waking up and wanting more I hope my Mama understands When I strike up the band Well I spit out my anger as the sweat do fly Fifteen years of paying dues just to get me by Now the barkeeps would pay us by the crowds we bring But those son-of-bitches never paid us one damn thing And my poor Daddy, he just don't understand It's balls out tonight, watch the shit hit the fan When we strike up the band Now those drop dead ladies line the very first row I do believe I'd like to spend some time after the show Now them years gone by, the barkeeps pay in cash And them lovely ladies feed me an earful of trash And my old lady, she just don't understand Why those floozies got their hands on her man And my poor Daddy, he still don't understand Why it's balls out tonight watch the shit hit the fan Give it all that we can, we don't give a good damn When we strike up the band Living like a gypsy, An air conditioned hippie Who's never seen the light of day Rode dog and cowboy Don't know how, boy I ever lived this long this way, no, no, said And my poor Daddy, he still don't understand Why it's balls out tonight watch the shit hit the fan Give it all that we can, we don't give a good damn When we strike up the band

Strike Up the Band Tony Bennett Written by George and Ira Gershwin From his "Strike Up the Band" LP with Count Basie: Roulette 25231 This version did not chart but In 1930, two versions did chart: Red Nichols and His Five Pennies at # 7 and the Arden-Ohman Orchestra at # 12 Title song from the Broadway musical Let the drums roll out Let the trumpet call While the people shout "Strike up the band" Hear the cymbals ring Callin' one and all To the martial swing, strike up the band There is work to be done, to be done Let's have fun, fun, fun You son of a gun of a gun, take your stand Form a line, oh, oh Come on, let's go Hey, leader, strike up the band! There is work to be done, to be done Let's have fun, fun, fun Come on, son of a gun of a gun, take your stand Form a line, oh, oh Come on, let's go Hey, Mr. Leader, Hey, Mr. Leader, Please strike up the band

Lightning strikes again. To waken life within. A shock runs through our hearts. Our veins are torn apart. And into night we fled, with thoughts of home inside our heads. We found the latches locked. In the rain all night we knocked, and knocked and no one came. Forgotten voices voiced in vein. Truth did free my mind. Fear locked the door behind. And now we're all alone. Outside the walls we once called home.

I heard Woodrow Wilson's guns I heard Maria crying Late last night I heard the news That Veracruz was dying Veracruz was dying Someone called Maria's name I swear it was my father's voice Saying, "If you stay you'll all be slain You must leave now - you have no choice Take the servants and ride west Keep the child close to your chest When the American troops withdraw Let Zapata take the rest" I heard Woodrow Wilson's guns I heard Maria calling Saying, "Veracruz is dying And Cuernavaca's falling" Aquel dia yo jure (On that day I swore) Hacia el puerto volvere (To the port I will return) Aunque el destino cambio mi vida (Even though destiny changed my life) En Veracruz morire (In Veracruz I shall die) Aquel dia yo jure (On that day I swore) I heard Woodrow Wilson's guns I heard them in the harbor Saying, "Veracruz is dying"

Everybody's restless and they've got no place to go Someone's always trying to tell them Something they already know So their anger and resentment flow But don't it make you want to rock and roll All night long Mohammed's Radio I heard somebody singing sweet and soulful On the radio, Mohammed's Radio You know, the Sheriff's got his problems too He will surely take them out on you In walked the village idiot and his face was all aglow He's been up all night listening to Mohammed's Radio Don't it make you want to rock and roll All night long Mohammed's Radio I heard somebody singing sweet and soulful On the radio, Mohammed's Radio Everybody's desperate trying to make ends meet Work all day, still can't pay the price of gasoline and meat Alas, their lives are incomplete Don't it make you want to rock and roll All night long Mohammed's Radio I heard somebody singing sweet and soulful On the radio, Mohammed's Radio You've been up all night listening for his drum Hoping that the righteous might just might just might just come I heard the General whisper to his aide-de-camp "Be watchful for Mohammed's lamp" Don't it make you want to rock and roll All night long Mohammed's Radio

I started as an altar boy, working at the church Learning all my holy moves, doing some research Which led me to a cash box, labeled "Children's Fund" I'd leave the change, and tuck the bills inside my cummerbund I got a part-time job at my father's carpet store Laying tackless stripping, and housewives by the score I loaded up their furniture, and took it to Spokane And auctioned off every last naugahyde divan I'm very well aquainted with the seven deadly sins I keep a busy schedule trying to fit them in I'm proud to be a glutton, and I don't have time for sloth I'm greedy, and I'm angry, and I don't care who I cross I'm Mr. Bad Example, intruder in the dirt I like to have a good time, and I don't care who gets hurt I'm Mr. Bad Example, take a look at me I'll live to be a hundred, and go down in infamy Of course I went to law school and took a law degree And counseled all my clients to plead insanity Then worked in hair replacement, swindling the bald Where very few are chosen, and fewer still are called Then on to Monte Carlo to play chemin de fer I threw away the fortune I made transplanting hair I put my last few francs down on a prostitute Who took me up to her room to perform the flag salute Whereupon I stole her passport and her wig And headed for the airport and the midnight flight, you dig? And fourteen hours later I was down in Adelaide Looking through the want ads sipping Fosters in the shade I opened up an agency somewhere down the line To hire aboriginals to work the opal mines But I attached their wages and took a whopping cut And whisked away their workman's comp and pauperized the lot I'm Mr. Bad Example, intruder in the dirt I like to have a good time, and I don't care who gets hurt I'm Mr. Bad Example, take a look at me I'll live to be a hundred and go down in infamy I bought a first class ticket on Malaysian Air And landed in Sri Lanka none the worse for wear I'm thinking of retiring from all my dirty deals I'll see you in the next life, wake me up for meals