ARE YA READY TO PULL OUT YET GEORGIE?

[seemslikeadream]

WHAT'S IT GONNA TAKE GEORGIE?



HOW MANY MORE GEORGIE, HOW MANY MORE?



HOW MANY MORE GEORGIE, HOW MANY MORE?


Sam Stone

Sam Stone came home,
To the wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas.
And the time that he served,
Had shattered all his nerves,
And left a little shrapnel in his knees.
But the morhpine eased the pain,
And the grass grew round his brain,
And gave him all the confidence he lacked,
With a purple heart and a monkey on his back.

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.

Sam Stone's welcome home
Didn't last too long.
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
And soon he took to stealing
When he got that empty feeling
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime.
And the gold roared through his veins
Like a thousand railroad trains,
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose,
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes...

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.

Sam Stone was alone
When he popped his last balloon,
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair.
Well, he played his last request,
While the room smelled just like death,
With an overdose hovering in the air.
But life had lost it's fun,
There was nothing to be done,
But trade his house that he bought on the GI bill,
For a flag-draped casket on a local hero's hill.

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.

--John Prine.

HOW MANY MORE GEORGIE, HOW MANY MORE?


Masters Of War

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks.

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly.

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain.

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion'
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud.

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins.

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do.

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul.

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead.

-- Bob Dylan.



HOW MANY MORE GEORGIE, HOW MANY MORE?



Long Time Gone Lyrics

It's been a long time comin'
It's goin' to be a long time gone.
And it appears to be a long,
Appears to be a long,
Appears to be a long time,
Yes, a long, long, long, long time,
Before the dawn.

Turn, turn any corner.
Hear, you must hear what the people say,
You know there's something that's goin' on around here,
That surely, surely, surely won't stand the light of day.
And it appears to be a long, (yes it does)
Appears to be a long,
Appears to be a long time,
Such a long, long, time,
Before the dawn.

Speak out, you got to speak out against the madness
You got to speak your mind,
If you dare.
But don't, no don't no try to get yourself elected.
If you do you had better cut your hair.
And it appears to be a long, (yes it does)
Appears to be a long
Appears to be a long time,
Such a long, long, long, long time,
Before the dawn.

It's been a long time comin',
It's going to be a long time gone.
But you know, the darkest hour,
Is always, always just before the dawn.
And it appears to be a long,
Appears to be a long,
Appears to be a long time,
Such a long, long, long, long time before the dawn

-- Crosby Stills Nash Young

HOW MANY MORE GEORGIE, HOW MANY MORE?

Two Soldiers

He was just a blue-eyed Boston boy
His voice was low with pain
"I'll do your bidding comrade mine
If I ride back again
But if you ride back and I am left
You'll do as much for me
Mother you know, must hear the news
So write to her tenderly."

"She's waiting at home like a patient saint
Her fond face pale with woe
Her heart will be broken when I am gone
I'll see her soon, I know"
Just then the order came to charge
For an instant hand touched hand
They said "Aye" and away they rode
That brave and devoted band.

Straight was the track to the top of the hill
The rebels they shot and shelled
Plowed furrows of death through the toilling ranks
And guarded them as they fell
There soon came a horrible dying yell
From heights that they could not gain
And those whom doom and death had spared
Rode slowly back again.

But among the dead that were left on the hill
Was the boy with the curly hair
The tall dark man who rode by his side
Lay dead beside him there
There's no one to write to the blue-eyed girl
The words that her lover had said
Momma, you know, awaits the news
And she'll only know he's dead.

--Bob Dylan.

HOW MANY MORE GEORGIE, HOW MANY MORE?

Paddy's Lament Lyrics

Well it's by the hush, me boys, and sure that's to MIND your noise
And listen to poor Paddy's sad narration
I was by hunger stressed, and in poverty distressed
So I took a thought I'd leave the Irish nation

Well I sold me horse and cow, my little pigs and sow
My FATHER'S FARM of land I soon did part with
And me sweetheart Bid McGee, I'm afraid I'll never see
For I left her there that morning broken-hearted

Here's you boys, now take my advice
To America I'll have ye's not be going
There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin

Well myself and a hundred more, to America sailed o'er
Our fortunes to be making we were thinkin'
When we got to Yankee land, they put guns into our hands
SAYING "Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln"

Here's you boys, now take my advice
To America I'll have YOUSE not be going
There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin

General Meagher to us he said, if you get shot or lose your Head
Every MOTHER'S SON of youse will get a pension
Well in the war I lost me leg, AND ALL I'VE NOW'S a wooden peg
And by soul it is the truth to you I mention

Here's you boys, now take my advice
To America I'll have YOUSE not be going
There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin

Well I think myself in luck, if I get fed on Indianbuck
And old Ireland is the country I delight in
To the devil, I would say, God curse Americay
For the truth I've had enough of your hard fightin

Here's you boys, now take my advice
To America I'll have YOUSE not be going
There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin

I wish I was at home
I wish I was at home
I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin

--Sinead O'Connor.

HOW MANY MORE GEORGIE, HOW MANY MORE?

Enveloped in a sentiment,
A sound that rushes over me.
Engage an impulse to pretend
I have a faith as pure.
Not forgetting what it means to dream.
Indulging everything.
Entertaining thoughts that I've the strength
Of those I yearn to be.
Cheers and tribute greet the saviours.
Reckless thoughts survive.
Anachronistic and impulsive.

And what will happen?
Will I dream?
I am too scared to close my eyes.
For a second please hold me.
None can change in me these things that I believe.
But I don't know what happens now.
I am too scared to close my eyes.

Legion
Vnv Nation

REMEMBER THIS GEORGIE? WHEN IS IT GOING TO END GEORGIE?
http://www.bushflash.com/year.html



CNN: 10 Marines killed near Falluja
Marines conducting 'counter-insurgency' operations in Falluja, Ramadi

Friday, December 2, 2005; Posted: 11:22 a.m. EST (16:22 GMT)

BAGHDAD, Iraq (CNN) -- A roadside bomb Thursday killed 10 Marines while they were on "foot patrol near Falluja," the Marine Corps said Friday.

The Marines were from Regimental Combat Team 8, 2nd Marine Division, II Marine Expeditionary Force (Forward).

Eleven Marines were also wounded in the incident, and four of them have not yet returned to duty.

The improvised explosive device was "fashioned from several large artillery shells," the Marine Corps said.

Marines have been conducting "counterinsurgency operations" in the Falluja and Ramadi areas ahead of the December 15 elections....

[Christa]

1. Great post - recommended.

:cry: :cry: :cry:

[seemslikeadream]

8. Christa I thank you from the bottom of my heart

This is indeed a very sad day



WHEN A SOLDIER MAKES IT HOME

Halfway around the world tonight
In a strange and foreign land
A soldier packs his memories
As he leaves Afghanistan
And back home they don't know too much
There's just no way to tell
I guess you had to be there
For to know that war was hell

And there won't be any victory parades
For those that's coming back
They'll fly them in at midnight
And unload the body sacks
And the living will be walking down
A long and lonely road
Because nobody seems to care these days
When a soldier makes it home

They'll say it wasn't easy
Just another job well done
As the government in Kabul falls
To the sounds of rebel guns
And the faces of the comrades
Being blown out of the sky
Leaves you bitter with the feeling
That they didn't have to die

Halfway around the world tonight
In a strange and foreign land
A soldier unpacks memories
That he saved from Vietnam
Back home they didn't know too much
There was just no way to tell
I guess you had to be there
For to know that war was hell

And there wasn't any big parades
For those that made it back
They flew them in at midnight
And unloaded all the sacks
And the living were left walking down
A long and lonely road
Because nobody seemed to care back then
When a soldier made it home

The night is coming quickly
And the stars are on their way
As I stare into the evening
Looking for the words to say
That I saw the lonely soldier
Just a boy that's far from home
And I saw that I was just like him
While upon this earth I roam

And there may not be any big parades
If I ever make it back
As I come home under cover
Through a world that can't keep track
Of the heroes who have fallen
Let alone the ones who won't
Which is why nobody seems to care
When a soldier makes it home

-Arlo Guthrie

[evolved Anarchopunk]

2. Good lyrics,

I especially love the Bob Dylan.

[seemslikeadream]

9. I love Dylan also Anarchopunk

WHERE ARE THOSE WMDS, GEORGIE? NOT UNDER YOUR DESK HUH?

[H2O Man]

3. Great post, SLaD.

The pathetic thing is that George does not view the 10 killed and 11 wounded in the context of human beings. Rather, he sees it as a test of his will, in the context of his diseased bibical interpretation. The war will not end, so long as the congress allows him to control the situation. And the congress won't do anything unless the American public demands it.

[seemslikeadream]

7. Thanks H2O Man remember the woman who lost her job over coffins photos

and here's what happened to the person that let the first photos show up:

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2001909...

Woman loses her job over coffins photo

A military contractor has fired Tami Silicio, a Kuwait-based cargo worker whose photograph of flag-draped coffins of fallen U.S. soldiers was published in Sunday's edition of The Seattle Times.

Silicio was let go yesterday for violating U.S. government and company regulations, said William Silva, president of Maytag Aircraft, the contractor that employed Silicio at Kuwait International Airport.

"I feel like I was hit in the chest with a steel bar and got my wind knocked out. I have to admit I liked my job, and I liked what I did," Silicio said.

Her photograph, taken earlier this month, shows more than 20 flag-draped coffins in a cargo plane about to depart from Kuwait. Since 1991, the Pentagon has banned the media from taking pictures of caskets being returned to the United States.

...more...

[inchhigh]

4. John Prine

A couple of months ago I was plinking around on someone else's guitar at a rally and I started playing "You're flag decal won't get you into Heaven anymore". I was shocked at how many 20-somethings at the rally knew the song. This is the song I hear ever time I see one of those stupid ribbon magnets on an SUV.

But your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more.
They're already overcrowded
From your dirty little war.
Now Jesus don't like killin'
No matter what the reason's for,
And your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more.

--John Prine

[seemslikeadream]

6. Some Mother's Son, inchhigh, some mother's son comes home in the dark

Sgt. Rick Morgan

Some Mother's Son

Some mother's son lies in a field
Someone has killed some mother's son today
Head blown up by some soldier's gun
While all the mothers stand and wait
Some mother's son ain't coming home today
Some mothers son ain't got no grave

Two soldiers fighting in a trench
One soldier glances up to see the sun
And dreams of games he played when he was young
And then his friend calls out his name
It stops his dream and as he turns his head
A second later he is dead

Some mother's son lies in a field
Back home they put his picture in a frame
But all dead soldiers look the same
While all the parents stand and wait
To meet their children coming home from school
Some mother's son is lying dead

Somewhere someone is crying
Someone is trying to be so brave
But still the world keeps turning
Though all the children have gone away

Some mother's son lies in a field
But in his mother's eyes he looks the same
As on the day he went away

They put his picture on the wall
They put flowers in the picture frame
Some mothers memory remains

--THE KINKS

[0007]

5. Have faith folks - junior is going down and it won't be on a camel

Move over Slobodan Miloševic, ya can't hog the Hague all by

yourself. We got a big crew coming in to keep ya company.

Miloševic's defense is, he was defending Yugoslavia from terrorism.

junior's defense is he is defending his country from terrorism.

ABRAMOFF’S SCANDAL PARTNERS INCLUDE BUSH PIONEERS, THE MOB, U.S. DEFENSE CONTRACTORS, AND "PROFESSIONAL CHRISTIANS"

and professional liars, like Ollie North.



Also involved in Lone Star was South African Lesley Greyling, a man who was also in business with Iran-Contra middleman Adnan Khashoggi in a casino in the Bahamas supported by weekly flights on terror flight school owner Wally Hilliard’s Lear jets.

"Khashoggi was among a number of prominent Arab businessmen, like Khalid Mahfouz, who agreed to continue what have been described by US intelligence officials as "protection payments" to bin Laden at a meeting in Paris in 1998, said London's Sunday Post October 7, 2001.

The airline that had been tapped by the group, and approved by local government officials to serve the island’s casinos, was Texas-based
Pacific Island Aviation, a company partially funded by the Lockheed Martin Corporation.


What’s being hidden from view is a graveyard filled with spirits from the major unresolved American scandals of the recent past.
Read More at this Link

[seemslikeadream]

10. IT'S THAT RICH MAN'S WAR 0007, THEY LIKE THE DARKNESS

Rich Man's War Lyrics


Jimmy joined the army ‘cause he had no place to go
There ain’t nobody hirin’
‘round here since all the jobs went
down to Mexico
Reckoned that he’d learn himself a trade maybe see the world
Move to the city someday and marry a black haired girl
Somebody somewhere had another plan
Now he’s got a rifle in his hand
Rollin’ into Baghdad wonderin’ how he got this far
Just another poor boy off to fight a rich man’s war

Bobby had an eagle and a flag tattooed on his arm
Red white and blue to the bone when he landed in Kandahar
Left behind a pretty young wife and a baby girl
A stack of overdue bills and went off to save the world
Been a year now and he’s still there
Chasin’ ghosts in the thin dry air
Meanwhile back at home the finance company took his car
Just another poor boy off to fight a rich man’s war

When will we ever learn
When will we ever see
We stand up and take our turn
And keep tellin’ ourselves we’re free

Ali was the second son of a second son
Grew up in Gaza throwing bottles and rocks when the tanks would come
Ain’t nothin’ else to do around here just a game children play
Somethin’ ‘bout livin’ in fear all your life makes you hard that way

He answered when he got the call
Wrapped himself in death and praised Allah
A fat man in a new Mercedes drove him to the door
Just another poor boy off to fight a rich man’s war

--Steve Earle

[seemslikeadream]

11. DARKNESS DARKNESS BE MY PILLOW

Darkness, Darkness

Darkness, darkness, be my pillow,
Take my hand, and let me sleep.
In the coolness of your shadow,
In the silence of your deep.
Darkness, darkness, has me yearning,
For things that cannot be.
Keep me my mind from constant turning,
Toward the things it cannot see,
Things it cannot see,
Things it cannot see.

Darkness, darkness, long and lonesome,
As the day brings the pain.
I have found the edge of stillness,
I live in the depth of fear.
Darkness, darkness, be my blanket,
Cover me with endless night,
Take away the pain that flows away,
Fill the emptiness with bright,
Emptiness with bright,
Emptiness with bright.

Darkness, darkness, be my pillow,
Take my hand, and let me sleep.
In the coolness of your shadow,
In the silence of your deep.
Darkness, darkness, be my blanket,
Cover me with endless night,
Take away the pain that flows away,
Fill the emptiness with bright,
Emptiness with bright,
Emptiness with bright.

-Jesse Colin Young

[0007]

14. Ya know that guy in Oakland California during the 60's

I think his name was Ausley (sp). I never meet him but his product changed my whole life. Of course I was great friends with Timothy O'Leary's secretary and was in contact after and when he made his unauthorized trip out of the United States.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that the poetry and lyric you write are just fucking great, man! I drink every word and know the meaning of them so well that words can't be said. Tears are an expression of feelings that only the dark does know.

Yes, I was a goddamn hippy, and still am.

There is no one in the world greater than YOU
But also there is no one any less than YOU

[madokie]

21. Yes I'm a hippy too and always will be.

[Window]

12. DAMN!!!

Just DAMN!

Kicked & recommended.



Peace

[seemslikeadream]

13. HAVE THEY ALL GONE BLIND, Window?

No Man Can Find The War


Photographs of guns and flame
Scarlet skull and distant game
Bayonet and jungle grin
Nightmares dreamed by bleeding men
Lookouts tremble on the shore
But no man can find the war

Tape recorders echo scream
Orders fly like bullet stream
Drums and cannons laugh aloud
Whistles come from ashen shroud
Leaders damn the world and roar
But no man can find the war

Is the war across the sea?
Is the war behind the sky?
Have you each and all gone blind:
Is the war inside your mind?

Humans weep at human death
All the talkers lose their breath
Movies paint a chaos tale
Singers see and poets wail
All the world knows the score
But no man can find the war

--Tim Buckley

[Clara T]

15. Kept from view

You cannot understand the present if you do not know the past.

nominate

[seemslikeadream]

16. Clara T we know The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

"Dulce Et Decorum Est" by Wilfred Owen (1893-1918)

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.


Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!-An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.


In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.


If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

[Window]

25. It would appear so.

You have done a wonderful job with the pics, lyrics and poems. This should be put to video. Everyone should see and read this...it is very moving. Great work.


Peace

[seemslikeadream]

26. Window I was thinking you may like to see this

and thank you so much

While I sit here trying to think of things to say
http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=show_topic&forum=104&topic_id=1671438

[happydreams]

17. kick and recommended

[seemslikeadream]

18. There is music in the midst of desolation happydreams

B.f.p.o.
Army dreamers.
Mammy’s hero.
B.f.p.o.
Mammy’s hero.

Our little army boy
Is coming home from b.f.p.o.
I’ve a bunch of purple flowers
To decorate a mammy’s hero.

Mourning in the aerodrome,
The weather warmer, he is colder.
Four men in uniform
To carry home my little soldier.

What could he do?
Should have been a rock star.
But he didn’t have the money for a guitar.
What could he do?
Should have been a politician.
But he never had a proper education.
What could he do?
Should have been a father.
But he never even made it to his twenties.
What a waste --
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of
Army dreamers.

Tears o’er a tin box.
Oh, jesus christ, he wasn’t to know,
Like a chicken with a fox,
He couldn’t win the war with ego.

Give the kid the pick of pips,
And give him all your stripes and ribbons.
Now he’s sitting in his hole,
He might as well have buttons and bows.

What could he do?
Should have been a rock star.
But he didn’t have the money for a guitar.
What could he do?
Should have been a politician.
But he never had a proper education.
What could he do?
Should have been a father.
But he never even made it to his twenties.
What a waste --
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of all that
Army dreamers,
Army dreamers,
Army dreamers, oh...

(b.f.p.o.)
Did-n-did-n-did-n-dum...
Army dreamers.
Did-n-did-n-did-n-dum...
(mammy’s hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
Army dreamers.
(mammy’s hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
No harm heroes.
(mammy’s hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
Army dreamers.
(mammy’s hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
No harm heroes.

--Kate Bush



For The Fallen

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain."
--Laurence Binyon

The poem was written in 1914, for British soldiers, and its fourth stanza adorns many a soldiers' memorial, but I think the sentiment fits for all those who've died in this war. Not just England, but all countries mourn their dead, it isn't just English soldiers who will no longer mingle with their comrades, but Americans, Italian, and others, as well as Iraqi soldiers and civilians.

19. If we were to see those coffins

every single day on TV, people would surely react more from sadness and rage than they are now.

[seemslikeadream]

20. Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream annces8

Last night I had the strangest dream
I'd ever dreamed before
I dreamed the world had all agreed
To put an end to war
I dreamed I saw a mighty room
The room was Filled men
And the paper they were signing said
They'd never fight again

And when the papers were all signed
And a million copies made
They all joined hands and bowed their heads
And grateful pray'rs were prayed

And the people in the streets below
Were dancing 'round and 'round
While guns and swords and uniforms
Were scattered on the ground

Last night I had the strangest dream
I'd never dreamed before
I dreamed the world had all agreed
To put an end to war.

--The Tarriers

[SammyWinstonJack]

22. Which is exactly why we will NEVER see these images on our TVs

even one single day. let alone 'every single day'. :grr: :cry: What the HELL is wrong with the people (freepers et al) who still supports the monsters who send these brave souls to their deaths over a pack of LIES! How can they continue to justify this horrendous and heinous war?

[rucky]

23. "Are ya ready to pull out, Georgie?" is what Barbara should've said

about 60 years ago to George Sr.

[lonestarnot]

24. Escalation until we do bushitler! OUT NOW! Bastard!

[seemslikeadream]

27. Marines killed in Iraq identified

Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time passing.
Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time ago.
Where have all the flowers gone?
The girls have picked them ev'ry one.
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time passing.
Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time ago.
Where have all the young girls gone?
They've taken husbands, every one.
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Oh, when will you ever learn?

Where have all the young men gone?
Long time passing.
Where have all the young men gone?
Long time ago.
Where have all the young men gone?
They're all in uniform.
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Oh, when will you ever learn?

Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time passing.
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time ago.
Where have all the soldiers gone?
They've gone to graveyards, every one.
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?

Where have all the graveyards gone?
Long time passing.
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Long time ago.
Where have all the graveyards gone?
They're covered with flowers, every one.
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?

Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time passing.
Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time ago.
Where have all the flowers gone?
Young girls picked them, every one.
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?


http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/12/03/marines.killed/index.html?section=cnn_latest
Marines killed in Iraq identified
Saturday, December 3, 2005; Posted: 2:11 p.m.


(CNN) -- The Pentagon on Saturday released the identities of the 10 Marines slain Thursday by a roadside bomb outside the Iraqi city of Falluja.

The men were assigned to 2nd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, I Marine Expeditionary Force in Twentynine Palms, California.

In Iraq, the unit was attached to 2nd Marine Division, II Marine Expeditionary Force (Forward), based at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina.

In Iraq, the Marines are in the restive Anbar province, where the insurgency has a strong presence.

Here are their names, ages and hometowns:


Staff Sgt. Daniel J. Clay, 27; Pensacola, Florida


Lance Cpl. John M. Holmason, 20; Surprise, Arizona


Lance Cpl. David A. Huhn, 24; Portland, Michigan


Lance Cpl. Adam W. Kaiser, 19; Naperville, Illinois


Lance Cpl. Robert A. Martinez, 20; Splendora, Texas


Cpl. Anthony T. McElveen, 20; Little Falls, Minnesota


Lance Cpl. Scott T. Modeen, 24; Hennepin, Minnesota


Lance Cpl. Andrew G. Patten, 19; Byron, Illinois


Sgt. Andy A. Stevens, 29; Tomah, Wisconsin


Lance Cpl. Craig N. Watson, 21; Union City, Michigan

[seemslikeadream]

28. TASK FORCE BAGHDAD SOLDIER KILLED (# 2130)

One good song with a message can bring a point more deeply to more people than a thousand rallies

--Phil Ochs



War Pigs Lyrics

Generals gathered in their masses
Just like witches at black masses
Evil minds that plot destruction
Sorcerers of death's construction
In the fields the bodies burning
As the war machine keeps turning
Death and hatred to mankind
Poisoning their brainwashed minds
Oh lord yeah!

Politicians hide themselves away
They only started the war
Why should they go out to fight?
They leave that role to poor

Time will tell on their power minds
Making war just for fun
Treating people just like pawns in chess
Wait 'til their judgement day comes
Yeah!

Now in darkness world stops turning
Ashes where the bodies burning
No more war pigs have the power
Hand of God has struck the hour
Day of judgement, God is calling
On their knees the war pig's crawling
Begging mercy for their sins
Satan laughing spreads his wings
All right now!

-- Black Sabbath



http://www.centcom.mil/CENTCOMNews/Casualty_Report.asp?CasualtyReport=20051208.txt


December 5, 2005
Release Number: 05-12-08C


FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE


TASK FORCE BAGHDAD SOLDIER KILLED

BAGHDAD, Iraq — A Task Force Baghdad Soldier was killed when a patrol struck an improvised explosive device in east Baghdad Dec. 4.

The name of the Soldier is being withheld pending notification of next of kin.

The incident is under investigation

[Lochloosa]

29. Add this pic to the list....

ONE TIN SOLDIER
(The Legend of Billy Jack)
words and music by Dennis Lambert and Brian Potter
Copyright © 1969 by ABC / Dunhill Music, Inc.

Listen children to a story that was written long ago
'bout a kingdom on a mountain and the valley folk below.
On the mountain was a treasure buried deep beneath a stone,
and the valley people swore they'd have it for their very own.


Go ahead and hate your neighbor, go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of heaven, justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowin' come the judgment day
on the bloody morning after one tin soldier rides away.


So the people of the valley sent a message up the hill
asking for the buried treasure, tons of gold for which they'd kill.
Came an answer from the kingdom: "With our brothers we will share
all the secrets of our mountain, all the riches buried there."


Go ahead and hate your neighbor, go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of heaven, justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowin' come the judgment day
on the bloody morning after one tin soldier rides away.


Now the valley cried with anger; mount your horses, draw your sword,
and they killed the mountain people, so they won their just reward.
Now they stood beside the treasure on the mountain, dark and red,
turned the stone and looked beneath it. "Peace on earth" was all it said.


Go ahead and hate your neighbor, go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of heaven, justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowin' come the judgment day
on the bloody morning after one tin soldier rides away.

[Octafish]

30. Blessed are the peacemakers.

What's that make warmongers?

[seemslikeadream]

31. Those warmongers need a doctor TASK FORCE BAGHDAD SOLDIER KILLED (# 2132)

A couple miles south of the Tikrit base camp, the Humvee Boggs was riding in was badly damaged by an improvised explosive device. Shrapnel pelted the left side of his body. "I took some nice pieces in my arm," Boggs said. "Luckily I didn't lose it." But he ended up losing his left eye.

DOCTOR MY EYES

Doctor, my eyes have seen the years
And the slow parade of fears without crying
Now I want to understand

I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good without hiding
You must help me if you can

Doctor, my eyes
Tell me what is wrong
Was I unwise to leave them open for so long

'Cause I have wandered through this world
And as each moment has unfurled
I've been waiting to awaken from these dreams
People go just where there will
I never noticed them until I got this feeling
That it's later than it seems

Doctor, my eyes
Tell me what you see
I hear their cries
Just say if it's too late for me

Doctor, my eyes
Cannot see the sky
Is this the prize for having learned how not to cry


http://www.centcom.mil/CENTCOMNews/Casualty_Report.asp?CasualtyReport=20051209.txt


TASK FORCE BAGHDAD SOLDIER KILLED

BAGHDAD, Iraq — A Task Force Baghdad Soldier was killed when a patrol struck an improvised explosive device in east Baghdad Dec. 4.

The name of the Soldier is being withheld pending notification of next of kin.

[Octafish]

32. All I seem to do these days is cry and get really mad.

My poor family and friends have bourne the brunt of it...

What has happened to my country?

You know the answer to that one.