Game Show Hosts -- Council of The Grey

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Date Posted: 14:02:41 08/20/00 Sun
Author: Mariah
Subject: Game Show Hosts
In reply to: Oxymoron 's message, "A Song For Tipper Gore... from Dave Mustaine" on 09:37:07 08/19/00 Sat

You might say I've lost my faith in politicians,
They all seem like game show hosts to me.

> This song is called Hook in Mouth, by Megadeth... off
> the Alblum So Far... So Good... So What...
>
> Dave Mustaine wrote it in Protest to the P.M.R.C.
> which was started by Tipper Gore.... I dislike her
> extremely....
>
> PEACE!
> Oxymoron
>
>
>
>
> A cockroach in the concrete, courthouse tan and beady
> eyes.
> A slouch with fallen arches, purging truths into great
> lies.
> A little man with a big eraser, changing history
> Procedures that he's programmed to, all he hears and
> sees.
>
> Altering the facts and figures, events and every issue.
> Make a person disappear, and no one will ever miss
> you.
>
> Rewrites every story, every poem that ever was.
> Eliminates incompetence, and those who break the laws.
> Follow the instructions of the New Ways' Evil Book of
> Rules.
> Replacing rights with wrongs, the files and records in
> the schools.
>
> You say you've got the answers, well who asked you
> anyway?
> Ever think maybe it was meant to be this way?
> Don't try to fool us, we know the worst is yet to come.
> I believe my kingdom will come.
>
> Chorus
> F is for fighting, R is for red,
> Ancestors' blood in battles they've shed.
> E, we elect them, E, we eject them,
> In the land of the free, and the home of the brave.
> D, for your dying, O, your overture,
> M, they will cover your grave with manure.
> This spells out freedom, it means nothing to me,
> As long as there's a P.M.R.C.
>
> F is for fighting, R is for red,
> Ancestors' blood in battles they've shed.
> E, we elect them, E, we eject them,
> In the land of the free and the home of the brave.
> D, for your dying, O, your overture,
> M is for money and you know what that cures.
> This spells out freedom, it means nothing to me,
> As long as there's a P.M.R.C.
>
> Put your hand right up my shirt,
> Pull the strings that make me work,
> Jaws will part, words fall out,
> like a fish with hook in mouth.
>
> Rewrites every story, every poem that ever was.
> Eliminates incompetence, and those who break the laws.
> Follow the instructions of the New Ways' Evil Book of
> Rules.
> Replacing rights with wrongs, the files and records in
> the schools.
>
> I'm not a fish
> I'm a man
>
> Hoook.... In... Mouth...

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