1. |
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TEN THOUSAND FANS CAN'T BE WRONG
The devil’s at the wheel of a big black Buick
The beast is asleep in the big back seat
The light from the dash throws a shadow on the window
As the devil sucks the juices from the tender young meat
A cigarette smolders in an open ashtray
The air in the car is stale and dry
There’s a woman on the floorboard with a bottle in her hand
There’s a snake in the road, a fell moon in the sky
I think I saw his face before
On the cover of a Rolling Stone magazine
His face was tan, his hands were red
His eyes were green . . . .
Ten thousand fans can’t be wrong
Ten thousand fans can’t be wrong
The reporters all armed with their cameras and their clipboards
Satan steps from the automobile
Donald Trump announces via satellite
We finally find a way to strike up a deal
Deep downtown at the convention center
The backstage men mop the blood from the floor
The false prophet ties up loose ends in the lobby
The harlot listens in from the ladies’ room door
I think I saw his face before
On the CBS news in El Salvador
His face was tan, his hands were red
His eyes were green . . . .
Ten thousand fans can’t be wrong
Ten thousand fans can’t be wrong
He wants one world vision and one world center
One new age church, one melody
He wants to overthrow the powers, the priests, and politicians
And hang the troublemakers on cable t.v.
Somebody said it was Jesus
Somebody said it was the Buddha
I think I’m gonna be sick . . . .
Ten thousand fans can’t be wrong
Ten thousand fans can’t be wrong
© 1993 Charles Bradford & Todd R. Long
All Rights Reserved
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2. |
Via Satellite
02:46
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VIA SATELLITE
Via via satellite
Via via satellite
Via via satellite
There will be a show tonight
Via via satellite
There will be a show tonight
Via via satellite
There will be a show tonight
Come what may, come what might
There will be a show tonight
Come what may, come what might
There will be a show tonight
Via via satellite
via via satellite
Come what may, come what might
There will be a show tonight
Won’t you wait and see
Turn on your t.v.
Won’t you watch with me . . . .
Via via satellite
There will be a show tonight
Via via satellite
There will be a show tonight
On your screen, in your heart
This is where the shooting starts
Won’t you wait and see
Turn on your t.v.
Via via satellite
Come what may come what might
There will be a show tonight
Won’t you wait and see
Turn on your t.v.
Won’t you watch with me . . . .
© 1993 Charles Bradford & Todd R. Long
All Rights Reserved
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3. |
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ORCHESTRA PIT
In the new world order
There will be no death
You shall not surely die
You will be as gods
One world government
One world religion
One world vision
One world hope
One world peace . . . .
This way . . . .
© 1993 Todd R. Long & Charles Bradford
All Rights Reserved
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4. |
Drive
02:38
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DRIVE
Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
Well, the engine was running
But the show wasn’t over
So I tapped you on the shoulder
And I told you to move over
Move over and drive
Green dial, red taillights
Hot static, radio
No one to tune into
Except for maybe, just maybe . . .
Move over and drive
Drive . . .
Black clouds seal the sky off
From the stars and the moonlight
So we’re here under the mercy
Of the V8 and the headlights
Move over and drive
Like a rocket in the midnight
Like a comet burning so bright
Like a diamond star cruiser
Like a Mississippi state trouper
Move over and drive
© 1993 Charles Bradford & Todd R. Long
All Rights Reserved
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5. |
1960
04:00
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1960
We drove like hell to the university
To talk to a professor of philosophy
Famed author in deconstruction and etymology
Who was speaking on the resurgence of theosophy
We asked him what could all this terror mean
He pointed to his television screen
As the spirits bet who could consume the most
The professor raised his glass to propose a toast
He said, “This is a spiritual awakening.”
He’d been looking for it since 1960
The science tower tall, stark, and ominous
Like a savior it drew us to its breast
As the scientist sucked on his cigarettes
The radio announced the daily deaths
We asked him what are we to make of this
Said he was dying to get to where the action is
To remove the masks of “all of those counterfeits”
Who had “sunk into the paranormal pit”
He smiled at the thought of making history
He’d been waiting for his chance since 1960
Where do we go, what do we do?
Who has an answer, which one is true?
Which turn is right, which turn is wrong?
What is the tune, who knows the song?
Dr. Childeed, the surgeon of the century
In the makeup room with blush on his cheek
Prepared for his fifteen minute spotlight
The first surgery of its kind on t.v.
He said, “Boys, boys, I don’t have time for you
I’m on in six minutes, sit down, enjoy the view”.
As the pregnant mother held tightly to her rights
The doctor wrestled with the fetus, held it up to the lights
He cried, “Peoples of the world, we’ve just made history
I’ve been hoping for this day since 1960”.
Where do we go, what do we do?
Who has an answer, which one is true?
Which turn is right, which turn is wrong?
What is the tune, who knows the song?
The spiritualist, mad-stricken, in a strange voice he sings
At a séance proposed by presidents and kings
He started his career reading palms, went on to bigger things
Like cosmic consciousness, astral travel, and spirit channeling
He leaned back and vomited a prophecy
A stinking form appeared and it began to speak
The governors shrank, the politicians ran
To flee the terror they had conjured up to man
It said, “I am the ruler of the earth and sea;
I’ve been waiting for this night since the dawn of history”.
© 1993 Todd R. Long & Charles Bradford
All Rights Reserved
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MISSION 66 Vicksburg, Mississippi
MISSION 66 is a long-term art project by Charles Bradford and Todd R. Long. Comprising rock and roll, poetry, visual arts, and video, MISSION 66 expresses by alluring artistic means the moral transformation in two friends over a lifetime.
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