A very special 250th birthday celebration! Jon and Chris review selected songs from the history of recorded music. "America the Beautiful" as recorded by Ray Charles, 1972; lyrics by Katherine Lee Bates, 1893 O beautiful for pilgrim feet, Whose stern, impassioned stress A thoroughfare for freedom beat Across the wilderness! America! America! God mend thine every flaw, Confirm thy soul in self-control, Thy liberty in law! O beautiful for heroes proved In liberating strife, Who more than self their country loved And mercy more than life! America! America! May God thy gold refine, Till all success be nobleness, And every gain divine! O beautiful for patriot dream That sees beyond the years Thine alabaster cities gleam Undimmed by human tears! America! America! God shed His grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood From sea to shining sea! "The Power and the Glory" by Phil Ochs, 1964 Come on and take a walk with me through this green and growing land Walk through the meadows and the mountains and the sand Walk through the valleys and the rivers and the plains Walk through the sun and walk through the rain Here is a land full of power and glory Beauty that words cannot recall Oh, her power shall rest on the strength of her freedom Glory shall rest on us all From Colorado, Kansas, and the Carolinas too Virginia and Alaska, from the old to the new Texas and Ohio and the California shore Tell me, who could ask for more? Yet she's only as rich as the poorest of the poor Only as free as a padlocked prison door Only as strong as our love for this land Only as tall as we stand Here is a land full of power and glory Beauty that words cannot recall Oh, her power shall rest on the strength of her freedom Glory shall rest on us all, on us all "The Times They Are A Changin'" by Bob Dylan, 1963 Come gather 'round people Wherever you roam And admit that the waters Around you have grown And accept it that soon You'll be drenched to the bone If your time to you is worth savin'; Then you better start swimmin'; Or you'll sink like a stone For the times they are a-changin'; Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen And keep your eyes wide The chance won't come again And don't speak too soon For the wheel's still in spin And there's no tellin' who that it's namin'; For the loser now Will be later to win For the times they are a-changin'; Come senators, congressmen Please heed the call Don't stand in the doorway Don't block up the hall For he that gets hurt Will be he who has stalled The battle outside ragin'; Will soon shake your windows And rattle your walls For the times they are a-changin'; Come mothers and fathers Throughout the land And don't criticize What you can't understand Your sons and your daughters Are beyond your command Your old road is rapidly agin'; Please get out of the new one If you can't lend your hand For the times they are a-changin'; The line it is drawn The curse it is cast The slow one now Will later be fast As the present now Will later be past The order is rapidly fadin'; And the first one now Will later be last For the times they are a-changin' "War Isn't Murder" by Jesse Welles, 2024 War isn't murder Good men don't die Children don't starve And all women survive War isn't murder That's what they say When you're fighting the devil Murder's okay War isn't murder They're called casualties There ain't a veteran With a good night's sleep Let's talk about dead people I mean a dead people The dead don't feel honored They don't feel that brave They don't feel avenged They're lucky if they got graves Call your dead mother Ask her when she died It's a deathly silence on the other line The dead don't talk But their children don't forget So in 20 short years You could live to regret that War isn't murder There's money at stake Hell, even Kushner agrees It's good real estate War isn't murder Ask Netanyahu He's got a psalm for that And a bomb for you War isn't murder It's an old-desert faith It's a nation-state-sanctioned righteous hate Let's talk about dead people I mean a dead people War isn't murder It's the vengeance of God If you can't see the bodies They don't bloat when they rot And the flies don't swarm And the children don't cry If war isn't murder Good men don't die So in a short 20 years When you vacation the Strip Don't think about the dead And have a nice trip War isn't murder We should all give thanks I saw it all in a movie Give it up for Tom Hanks War isn't murder They don't ship out the poor And the bullets they fire Aren't part of the cure War isn't murder Land is a right But the banks called dibs It's something you can't fight Let's talk about dead people I mean a dead people The dead don't feel honor They don't feel that brave They don't feel avenged They're lucky if they got graves War isn't murder Ain't a river of blood Stretching all through time And raining down in a flood It's a dark sacrifice Made on your behalf So get down on your knees And thank the sweet lord that War isn't murder "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime," by E.Y. Harburg, 1932 They used to tell me I was building a dream And so I followed the mob When there was earth to plow or guns to bear I was always there, right on the job They used to tell me I was building a dream With peace and glory ahead Why should I be standing in line Just waiting for bread? Once I built a railroad, I made it run Made it race against time Once I built a railroad, now it's done Brother, can you spare a dime? Once I built a tower up to the sun Brick and rivet and lime Once I built a tower, now it's done Brother, can you spare a dime? Once in khaki suits, gee, we looked swell Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum Half a million boots went slogging through Hell And I was the kid with the drum Say, don't you remember? They called me Al; It was Al all the time Why don't you remember? I'm your pal Say buddy, can you spare a dime? Once in khaki suits, ah, gee, we looked swell Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum Half a million boots went slogging through Hell And I was the kid with the drum Oh, say, don't you remember? They called me Al; It was Al all the time Say, don't you remember? I'm your pal Buddy, can you spare a dime? "Strange Fruit" by Abel Meeropol [Lewis Allan], 1939 Southern trees bear strange fruit Blood on the leaves and blood at the root Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees Pastoral scene of the gallant south The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh Then the sudden smell of burning flesh Here's a fruit for the crows to pluck For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop Here's a strange and bitter crop "Mr President Have Pity on the Working Man" by Randy Newman, 1974 We've taken all you've given It's gettin' hard to make a livin' Mr. President, have pity on the working man We ain't asking you to love us You may place yourself high above us Mr. President, have pity on the working man I know it may sound funny But people ev'ry where are runnin' out of money We just can't make it by ourself It is cold and the wind is blowing We need something to keep us gong Mr. President, have pity on the working man Maybe you're cheatin' Maybe you're lyin' Maybe you have lost your mind Maybe you only think about yourself Too late to run, too late to cry now The time has come for us to say good-bye now Mr. President, have pity on the working man Mr. President, have pity on the working man "American Tune" by Paul Simon, 1973 Many's the time I've been mistaken And many times confused Yes, and I've often felt forsaken And certainly misused Oh, but I'm alright, I'm alright I'm just weary to my bones Still, you don't expect to be bright and bon vivant So far away from home, so far away from home And I don't know a soul who's not been battered I don't have a friend who feels at ease I don't know a dream that's not been shattered Or driven to its knees But it's alright, it's alright For we lived so well so long Still, when I think of the Road we're traveling on I wonder what's gone wrong I can't help it, I wonder what has gone wrong And I dreamed I was dying I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly And looking back down at me Smiled reassuringly And I dreamed I was flying And high up above my eyes could clearly see The Statue of Liberty Sailing away to sea And I dreamed I was flying We come on the ship they call The Mayflower We come on the ship that sailed the moon We come in the age's most uncertain hours And sing an American tune Oh, and it's alright, it's alright, it's alright You can't be forever blessed Still, tomorrow's going to be another working day And I'm trying to get some rest That's all I'm trying to get some rest "Lift Every Voice and Sing" by James Weldon Johnson and J. Rosemond Johnson, 1905 Lift every voice and sing Till earth and heaven ring, Ring with the harmonies of Liberty; Let our rejoicing rise High as the listening skies, Let it resound loud as the rolling sea. Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us, Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us, Facing the rising sun of our new day begun Let us march on till victory is won. Stony the road we trod, Bitter the chastening rod, Felt in the days when hope unborn had died; Yet with a steady beat, Have not our weary feet Come to the place for which our fathers sighed? We have come over a way that with tears has been watered, We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered, Out from the gloomy past, Till now we stand at last Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast. Go
