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Springtime
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"Springtime's a good time to bomb the world."
Political/personal songs since the 1960s -- killer ballads, working-class anthems, political satire. Fred's twelve-string guitar can be anything from a blues ba
Fred Stanton’s songs (along with his lumberjack voice and jumbo 12-string guitar) embody the political folk-singing tradition. Fred has been an industrial worker (a welder of oilfield equipment; an electronic assembler; and a railroad electrician, hostler and brakeperson) as well as a political organizer and union activist. This life is at the heart of his songsmoving, personal ballads, rollicking satires, and working-class anthems. Fred has been singing in concerts, union rallies and political protests since the 1960s. His union songs celebrate the struggles of strikers at Peabody Coal, poultry processing workers in North Carolina, and strawberry pickers in California. And his "Singing Cars," a Bronx salute to car alarms, has been featured on NPR’s "Car Talk" show. Newest songs include “Five-Dollar Coal,” which is the story of miners in Utah fighting for a union.
Song Info
Charts
Peak #393
Peak in subgenre #27
Author
Fred Stanton
Rights
Copyright © 2002 by Fred Stanton
Uploaded
November 27, 2003
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.3 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Story behind the song
Written in spring of 2002 for a gathering of poets for peace, organized around the theme "springtime and war."
Lyrics
Japanese cherries sprout buds on the mall, A crocus is growing by the names on the wall. Easter eggs nestle on the White House lawn, And there's a resurrection at the Pentagon. Chorus: Let's romp with the robins and swing with the squirrels, Springtime's a good time to bomb the world. The world has been naughty, the world has been bad, So it's about time for a Christian jihad. Now Russia and China, Iraq and Iran, Will fall like the daisies of Afghanistan. (Chorus) The sun in Korea is melting the ice, The farmers rejoice in green shoots of rice. But I smell a nuke in Korea's manure, And they're on my list of the worst evil-doers. (Chorus) In Venezuela, they shake hands with Fidel, So they will go straight to terrorist hell. Their spring comes in autumn, they don't pay their debts, Which makes them as evil as people can get. (Chorus) Bridge: My flag must be worshipped, my ass must be kissed, Love me, or you're a terrorist. The world is my ally or the world is not there-- Bend over, spring is in the air! So here's to our heroes, the godly machine, They're macho and righteous, their weapons are clean. The white tornado, they sweep through your land, They come in like a lion, go out like a lamb. (Chorus)
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