by Raymond Nat Turner
Bomb 'em to stone man
Free-fire zone man
Jim Jones man
Villain called Drone Man
Wrong Song In The Key Of Death
(Call The Villain)
by Raymond Nat Turner
Flaming grooves burning lard off
Drumsticks and gyrating boo-tays;
Lush chords working their ways
Through Jazz clubs and churches;
Melodies reeling ribbons in from
The sky---Genius of the giant,
Master Blaster, Sir Duke of our times!
But picking politicians,Stevie's either a
Dupe, dope, dunce or dilettante played
By star-spangled charlatans---corporatists
Cloaked in Populist cotton, like Chippendale
Dancers wearing suicide vests, Senors signed,
Sealed and delivered to celebrity-worshipers by the 1%:
Like a relatively unknown man
A hugely overblown man
A corporate grown man
Political clone man
Like a Skull & Bone man
A Rhine-stone man
Testosterone man
Bellicose tone man
Bomb 'em to stone man
Free-fire zone man
Jim Jones man
Villain called Drone Man
Call the villain Drone Man
Call the villain Drone Man...
Raymond Nat Turner (c) 2012 All Rights Reserved
A majority of New York City cops are non-white, but their union endorsed the re-election of Donald Trump, with no loud protest from the darker ranks.
Reactions to the Breonna Taylor murder, settlement and verdict all have one thing in common: Black people’s inability to protect our lives.
The US sows hysteria about China because Washington can no longer dictate global affairs without any significant challenge.
What Kagame has done to Rusesabagina, of Hotel Rwanda fame, embarrasses the US foreign policy establishment that has lionized his brutal regime for so long, writes Ann Garrison.
Danny Haiphong and Margaret Kimberley
