Because the people that own and control this country do not deserve to, because they do
it in the name of profit, they don't do it in the name of human rights, the name of environmental
sanity.
So thank you so much for being here and standing shoulder to shoulder.
This is a song for everybody who's from a town like Marseilles who will know why this
is called Maximum Firepower.
This one's for the shoeshine boy and the farmer in debt, each string is barbed wire,
each cord is a threat, this blues guy man that never had a hit, said you don't gotta
be loud, son, to be heavy as shit, well I'm the trigger man, baby, tonight I'll prove that
this machine here will it kills fascists too, and don't be surprised if the serpent on the
ground.
Next half delivered in a little coffee house, there's somebody here's got to let them know,
I doubt it's me, but here I go, I hit the button, tape started to roll, yeah the song's got
fire, but it's got no soul, there's a lonely stretch of black dust between here and home,
drop down into the valley, cattle playing in the living room, when you see the white
buck, you know the journey's through, my dog's barking in the backseat, cause he knows it
too.
You need to think past poor and fix your disguise, and don't fire sugar till you see the whites
of their eyes, I turn the other cheek, but now I'm through, the skin you're in makes
choices for you, I was checking off names and I came late to dinner, see if the slices
of pie keep getting thinner and thinner, well brothers and sisters, rejoice and repent,
the landlord's dead, you can keep the rent, you've got twelve fine friends, but one of
them's rotten, there's a whole loud band, ain't got no bottom, forty days in the wilderness,
forty sleepless nights, I'm confused, half blind, and sure I'm right, there's a lonely
stretch of black dust between here and home, drop down into the valley, cattle playing in
the living room, when you see the white buck, you know the journey's through, my dog's barking
in the backseat, cause he knows it too.
Officer please, I won't be long, call the radio station, request this song, I had my doubts
about what I knew, so I turned it up, and then it sounded true.
Kiss the ring, if the queen'll let you, the Jehovah the fence, and the dog to get you,
on a rope on the trader, on a hook on the meat, you and me are missing persons, till we're
counted in the street, so seize the time, and storm the tower, and come correct with maximum
firepower, for the sins of the father, the son he must pay, the night watchman given
any, take it away, but hard about this next line, pretty sure it's true, if you take a
step towards freedom, freedom will take two steps towards you, so get back, and I ain't
worried, I'm a lonely stretch of black top, I sit as judge and jury, it's a lonely stretch
of black top, between here and home, drop down into the valley, and I'll play in the
living room, when you see the white bar, you know the journey is through, my dog's
barking in the fancy, you can see it knows it too, the clock strikes the hour, tonight
we ride, the clock strikes the hour, tonight we ride, the clock strikes the hour, tonight
we ride, you got three more seconds to choose sides, this is song by one of my favorite
American songwriters and rebels, someone who were he alive, we're at 99 right now, but
were he alive, he would have been here today, gentlemen, my name is Woody Guthrie.
As I was walking, that ribbon of highway, I saw above me, that endless skyway, I saw
below me, a golden valley, this land was made for you and me, this land is your land, this
land is my land, from California, to the New York high, from the redwood forest, to the
Gulf Stream waters, this land was made for you and me, as I was walking, I saw a sign
there, and that sign said no trespassing, but on the other side, it didn't say nothing,
that sign was made for you and me, this land is your land, this land is my land, from
California, to the New York high, from the redwood forest, to the Gulf Stream waters,
this land was made for you and me, nobody living, can ever stop me, as I go walking,
that freedom highway, nobody living, can make me turn back now, cause this land was made
for you and me, this land is your land, this land is my land, from California, to the
New York high, from the redwood forest, to the Gulf Stream waters, this land was made
for you and me, clap your hands!
All right, stop clapping, that was very rhythmic, as I expected, yes, people do that, they're
apart from the country, they cannot clap for shit, but you gotta know, even if their hearts
are in it, in our final 45 seconds, you know, this is what we're gonna do, when you go
through New York, I know, and you might be beginning to suspect, the history is not
made by presidents or popes, or kings, or queens or generals, or CIA kingpins running
dope, the wheel of history is in your hand, brothers and sisters, and it's what we do
or fail with you during our time, that will determine what our lives, our communities
and our water world is gonna be like, so I'm sure, with all the events going on today,
your eyes and your ears and your brains and your souls have been revolutionized, and
later on tonight and tomorrow, we're gonna head out to confront injustice wherever it
rears its ugly head, but, but, but, for the next minute and 45 seconds, we're just gonna
have a good motherfucking time, people!
What I'm thrilled to do, in the squares of the city, in the shadow of the steeple, near
the reef office, I see my people, in summer crumpled land, and all are wondering, if this
land's still made for you and me, come!
This land was made for you and me, thank you very much!
