I do not wish a foreign army to spill the blood of my people.
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Lysistrata
Lysistrata, open up the bedroom door
What is the matter, aint you in love with me no more?
I enlisted in the army today,
One more time before I march away
Make me feel like a big strong man
You say you dont care about my pride,
You love me too much just to let me die,
And you wont let me come inside
Unless I dont go to war no more
Lysistrata, little boys like to have their fun,
And you know I gotta put on my colors and get my gun
Every able bodied man that I know,
Every patriot is packed to go
Wont you give me a last goodbye
Ill be sent off to a distant land,
To spill my blood upon some foreign sand,
And I may die by an enemys hand
And then I wont go to war no more
Send the boys all back to the farm
Tell the troops it was a false alarm,
cause if I die I want to be in your arms,
And so I wont go to war, no I wont go to war,
Said I wont go to war no more
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today I am from Iraq
The monument to the ruler is pulled down,
trampled under foreign feet
and today you will meet me in the street
and today I am a Muslim, from Iraq
although my blood
is that of a different nation.
Once a child, a man in the street
who had been a soldier,
forced into the army of the fatherland.
Here my house had been bombed
into ruins, shattered like pieces of glass
and where my life once was,
my farm, my business
everything is now looted, busted or broken
as a token of the foreign invasion
and humiliation.
[Reference: Babi Yar by Yevgeny Yevtushenko.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Peace Carrier, Sapporo's Jieitai
Ever seen an army
Taking care of trees?
Army men, all smiley
Kindly care for kids?
Searching woods and mountains
To save people's lives
Instead of filling up fountains
With blood, or give painful cries?
Come see with own eyes
Such army that rise
To melt people's hearts
With sculptures of ice.
Sweating for a smile
Sapporo's Jieitai
Works hard for a month
to show how an army
can be nice and kind.
The 62nd Sapporo's Snow Festival starts on Feb.7. All the snow for it is carried by Sapporo's Self Defense Forces.Also(traditionally) they 're to have one of the main snow sculptures on Odori park.Till a few years before had own marvellous site with huge snow and ice slides and army men (smiling) would care for every single person's ride. Thousands and thousands of kids smiled and felt warmed by the work of this army's hands.
poem by Elena Sandu
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My Army, O, My Army!
My Army, O, my army! The time I dreamed of comes!
I want to see your colours; I want to hear your drums!
I heard them in my boyhood when all men’s hearts seemed cold;
I heard them as a Young Man—and I am growing old!
My army, O, my army! The signs are manifold!
My army, O, my army! My army and my Queen!
I used to sing your battle-songs when I was seventeen!
They came to me from ages, they came from far and near;
They came to me from Paris, they came to me from Here!—
They came when I was marching with the Army of the Rear.
My Queen’s dark eyes were flashing (oh, she was younger then!);
My Queen’s Red Cap was redder than the reddest blood of men!
My Queen marched like an Amazon, with anger manifest—
Her dark hair darkly matted from a knifegash in her breast
(For blood will flow where milk will not—her sisters knew the rest).
My legions ne’er were listed, they had no need to be;
My army ne’er was trained in arms—’twas trained in misery!
It took long years to mould it, but war could never drown
The shuffling of my army’s feet in the hunger-haunted town—
A little child was murdered, and so Tyranny went down.
My army kept no order, my army kept no time;
My army dug no trenches, yet died in dust and slime;
Its troops were fiercely ignorant, as to the manner born;
Its clothes were rags and tatters, or patches worn and torn—
Ah, me! It wore a uniform that I have often worn!
The faces of my army were ghastly as the dead;
My army’s cause was Hunger, my army’s cry was “Bread!”
It called on God and Mary and Christ of Nazareth;
It cried to kings and courtesans that fainted at its breath—
Its women beat their poor, flat breasts where babes had starved to death.
My army! My army—I hear the sound of drums
Above the roar of battles—and, lo! my army comes!
Nor creed of man may stay it—nor war, nor nation’s law—
The pikes go through the firing-lines as pitchforks go through straw—
Like pitchforks through the litter, while empires stand in awe.
poem by Henry Lawson
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No Spill Blood
(what is the law? )
(what is the law? )
Animals came from miles around
So tired of walking so close toe the ground
They needed a chance, thats what they said
Life is better walking on two legs
But they were in for a big surprise
cause they didnt know the law!
Chorus
(what is the law)
No spill blood
What is the law
(no spill blood)
(who makes the rules)
Someone else
Who makes the rules
(someone else)
The rules are written in the stone
Break the rules and you get no bones
All you get is ridicule, laughter
And a trip to the house of pain!
Chorus (in reverse order)
We walk on two legs not on four
To walk on four legs breaks the law
What happens when we break the law?
What happens when the rules arent fair?
We all know here we go from there
To the house of pain!
To the house of pain!
(what is the law)
What is the law
(who makes the rules)
Who makes the rules
We walk on two legs not on four
To the house of pain
To the house of pain
To the house of pain
To the house of pain
To the house of pain
(no spill blood)
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grafted Into the Army
Our Jimmy has gone for to live in a tent,
they have grafted him into the Army,
he finally puckered up courage and went,
when they grafted him into the Army.
I told them the child was too young, alas!
At the captains forequarters, they said he would pass,
they'd train him up well in the Infantry class,
so they grafted him into the Army.
Oh, Jimmy, farewell! Your brothers fell way down in Alabammy;
I though they would spare a lone widder's heir,
but they grafted him into the Army.
Dressed up in his unicorn, dear little chap,
they have grafted him into the Army;
it seems but a day since he sot in my lap,
but they grafted him into the Army.
And these are the trousies he used to wear,
them very same buttons, the patch and the tear;
but Uncle Sam gave him a bran' new pair
when they grafted him into the Army.
Now in my provisions I see him revealed,
they have grafted him into the Army;
a picket beside the contented field,
they have grafted him into the Army.
He looks kinder sickish -- begins to cry,
a big volunteer standing right in his eye!
Oh, what if the ducky should up and die,
now they've grafted him into the Army.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Moses Dedicated The Law Of Moses
Moses read to the people the law.
The people promised to obey the law.
Moses sprinkled blood on the people
blood on the book sealed the people
sealed in contact with dedicating blood
thus was born a new Mosaic Covenant
the first covenant was dedicated blood
Moses spoke every precept
to all the people according to the law
Moses took blood of calves
goats, with water, scarlet wool, hyssop
sprinkled both the book and all the people
saying 'This is the blood of the covenant
which God has commanded you.' Hebrews 9: 18-22.
Moses sprinkled with blood
both the tabernacle and all vessels
of ministry according to law
almost all things
holy are purified
in sacrificial blood
shedding of blood
there is remission
atonement in blood
poem by Terence George Craddock
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In A Foreign Land
It was a matter of fact that when I paid all my tax
I held my world in the palm of my hand
And all of my debts were causing me to defect
To a land of bananas and sand
So I ran, yes I ran, yes I ran to a foreign land
Here I am, here I am
Here I am in a foreign land
Im so glad we made it
I thought wed never land
I grabbed all my cash
And decided to dash far away
Far away, far away to a foreign land
Here I am, here I am, here I am in a foreign land
Goodbye to all of the rich mans daughters
Goodbye to my debts now Im way cross the water
Far away, far away in a foreign land
Here I am, here I am here I am in a foreign land
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
Please tell my mother and all my ex-lovers
That Ive finally made the grade
Please tell my debtors and the money collectors
That all of my bills will be paid some day
Im away, Im away, far away in a foreign land
Goodbye champagne and caviar set
I wanna slum and drink all the rum I can get
Im away, Im away in a foreign land
Here I am, here I am, here I am in a foreign land
But Im all out of my jack and I cant go back
Im away, far away, far away in a foreign land
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ancient Warrior
Theres no end - theres no beginning -
To the old mans story
Does he still remember me -
From lives gone by
Oh I see his spirit rising
Upon the back of time
Ive got nowhere to hide
Will he keep a place for me
He is the king of all kings
The keeper of light
He holds eternitys wings
In his eyes an oceans burning
Swollen seat of tears
Troubled mind the beating
War drums in his ears
No one ever hears his warning
Am I the one he calls
When they tell me theyre afraid
Some say Ill be put away
He is the king of all kings
The keeper of light
He holds eternitys wings
My blood will spill my blood
My blood will spill my blood
In the wisdom of the prophets
Never ending tale
Open up the eyes
Within your mind, he says
Crowned in his ancient glory
Theres a king within us all
Some will say its all in vain
That he doesnt have a name
He is the king of all kings
The keeper of light
He holds eternitys wings
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why are we, as a nation so obsessed with foreign things? Is it a legacy of our colonial years? We want foreign television sets. We want foreign shirts. We want foreign technology. Why this obsession with everything imported?
quote by Abdul Kalam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I would like to thank the people who encouraged me to draw army cartoons at a time when the gag man's conception of the army was one of mean ole sergeants and jeeps which jump over mountains.
quote by Bill Mauldin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Right in Front of the Army
"Where 'ave you been this week or more,
'Aven't seen you about the war'?
Thought perhaps you was at the rear
Guarding the waggons." "What, us? No fear!
Where have we been? Why, bless my heart,
Where have we been since the bloomin' start?
Right in the front of the army,
Battling day and night!
Right in the front of the army
Teaching 'em how to fight!"
Every separate man you see,
Sapper, gunner, and C.I.V.,
Every one of 'em seems to be
Right in front of the army!
Most of the troops to the camp had gone,
When we met with a cow-gun toiling on;
And we said to the boys, as they walked her past,
"Well, thank goodness, you're here at last!"
"Here at last! Why, what d'yer mean?
Ain't we just where we've always been?
Right in the front of the army,
Battling day and night!
Right in the front of the army,
Teaching'em bow to fight!"
Correspondents and Vets in force,
Mounted foot and dismounted horse,
All of them were, as a matter of course,
Right in the front of the army.
Old Lord Roberts will have to mind
If ever the enemy get behind;
For they'll smash him up with a rear attack,
Because his army has got no back!
Think of the horrors that might befall
An army without any rear at all!
Right in the front of the army,
Battling day and night!
Right in the front of the army,
Teaching 'em how to fight!
Swede attaches and German counts,
Yeomen (known as De Wet's Remounts),
All of them were, by their own accounts,
Right in the front of the army!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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When you have a foreign invasion - in this case by the Indonesian army - writers, intellectuals, newspapers and magazines are the first targets of repression.
quote by Antonio Tabucchi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For A Gentleman, Who, Kissinge His Friend At His Departure Left A Signe Of Blood On Her
What mystery was this; that I should finde
My blood in kissing you to stay behinde?
'Twas not for want of color that requirde
My blood for paynt: No dye could be desirde
On that fayre silke, where scarlett were a spott
And where the juice of lillies but a blotte.
'Twas not the signe of murther that did taynt
The harmlesse beauty of so pure a saynt:
Yes, of a loving murther, which rough steele
Could never worke; such as we joy to feele:
Wherby the ravisht soule though dying lives,
Since life and death the selfsame object gives.
If at the presence of a murtherer
The wound will bleede and tell the cause is ther,
A touch will doe much more, and thus my heart,
When secretly it felt the killing darte,
Shew'd it in blood: which yet doth more complayne
Because it cannot be so touched againe.
This wounded heart, to shew its love most true,
Sent forth a droppe and writ its minde on you.
Never was paper halfe so white as this,
Nor waxe so yeelding to the printed kisse,
Nor seal'd so strong. Noe letter ere was writt
That could the author's minde so truly hitt.
For though myselfe to foreigne countries flie,
My blood desires to keepe you company.
Here could I spill it all: thus I can free
Mine enemy from blood, though slayne I be:
But slayne I cannot bee, nor meete with ill,
Since but by you I have no blood to spill.
poem by William Strode
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Bite The Hand That Bleeds
I watch you tap for blood in my veins
My heart you feed on to keep you sustained
A parasite that leaves me cold and drained
I'm in shock, and you leave me paralyzed
And the saddest part I realize
The absence of truth behind your eyes
I feel you tapping my soul from my vein!
I feel you tapping again on my vein!
I feel my life slipping away!
One more drop of blood I spill
One more drop you take
One more drop and I will spite
And bite the hand that bleeds
I see you have two faces turning
Changing face to keep me guessing
You have mastered the art of deceiving
Now I know no one trusts you
And to think, not even you do
And I know you salted my wounds
Now I know no one trusts you!
Now I know no one trusts you!
Now I know you salted my wounds!
One more drop of blood I spill
Noe more drop you take
One more drop and I will spite
And bite the hand that bleeds
Bite the hand that bleeds you ...
song performed by by Fear Factory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Curious people who have become accustomed to think that one cannot sustain the moral of the army without giving it the freedom to shed blood from time to time.
quote by Moshe Sharett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Evil Army
Caught between what i want. And what i don't want to let go. A tease. A taste so sweet. Where should we meet. How about half way. trying to make everything okay. Shes still chasing my heart. But it has been lost. While pandora's box was opened. Secrets kill. Playing the game with one thing in mind. I got souls to steal. Breaking into heaven with a lier, a cheat, a thief. An evil army, my evil army. A cult of fantasy. A sexing orgy. A slumber of misery. Pull away. Get in their face. Show them your ready to race. It mine, all mine. Selfish to the last drop. Theirs poison in the water and i wont drink from it. Try to make me, try to break me. You wont change me. Oh no, I'm needed to lead an army. Breaking into heaven with a lier, a cheat, a thief. An evil army, my evil army. Sick thoughts run my head. As the blood is shed. Pure hatred is like sunlight under a magnify glass on my skin. Oh how its burning. War was declared, as smoke filled the air. Oh i need oxygen just to breath. Something choking me that i cant see. The sun rises then falls. My plans dont change or wane. I must lead an army. Breaking into heaven with a lier, a cheat, thief. An evil army, my evil army. Oh it my all mine, my evil army. Baking as I'm waking. Hot on the outside, cold on the inside. Stop trying to feel, what ain't real. Its mask, just f*ck me over. Come on now's your chance. Lets dance toe to toe. Put on a show, and i will still go. Doesn't matter what was written in the snow. Lust turns to dust. the rust comes off. Sorry but i must lead army. Breaking into heaven with a lier, a cheat, a thief. An evil army. Its my evil army. We will destroy you.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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As the global expansion of Indian and Chinese restaurants suggests, xenophobia is directed against foreign people, not foreign cultural imports.
quote by Eric Hobsbawm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sectional football games have the glory and the despair of war, and when a Texas team takes the field against a foreign state, it is an army with banners.
quote by John Steinbeck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The people who were against the Vietnam War thought I was attacking the Army. The guys in the Army thought I was representing their experiences. I was on both sides, and I survived.
quote by Mort Walker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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