Johnny Cash: Imperialist Neocon

As far as the thread question, I have no idea what Johnny's politics were all about.

anyway, I have come to like him more and more, there's something in his voice that appeals to me, and I always enjoy hearing his "Jackson" duet on the radio. I met him a couple of times and went to his house out on Old Hickory Lake once, for this book-biz event I was involved in. It was great, and he went around and shook hands with everyone--when he looked at me it was dead in the eye and I felt it. One of my uncles knew him a little bit, they both used to hang out at this little grocery in Hendersonville and they used to talk fishing and that sort of thing--my uncle liked him pretty well. One of those things where I don't necessarily think he was on the same musical level as Jones or Haggard or any of them, but I have a lot of respect for him as a human being. I love June Carter Cash's stuff, and Roseanne is real good too.

Nah, Viking OTM; I've only flipped thru "Cash" at the bookstore, but I think he says he personally liked both Reagan and Clinton "but I didn't vote for either of them." He never seemed to be party- or ideology-identified, in the way white lib Dems or NASCAR gun-owners are.

I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.

I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.

Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought 'a be a Man In Black.

I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.

And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,
Believen' that the Lord was on their side,
I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,
Believen' that we all were on their side.

Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.

One mornin' at breakfast, I said to my wife,
We been everywhere once and some places twice,
As I had another helping of country ham,
She said "We ain't never been to Vietnam,
"And there's a bunch of our boys over there."
So we went to the Orient: Saigon.

Well we got a big welcome when we drove in,
Through the gates of a place that they call Long Vinh.
We checked in and everything got kinda quiet,
But a soldier boy said: "Just wait 'til tonight,
"Things get noisy. Things start happenin'.
"Big bad firecrackers."

Well that night we did about four shows for the boys,
And they were livin' it up with a whole lot of noise.
We did our last song for the night,
And we crawled into bed for some peace and quiet,
But things weren't peaceful. And things weren't quiet.
Things were scary.

Well for a few minutes June never said one word,
And I thought at first that she hadn't heard.
Then a shell exploded not two miles away,
She sat up in bed and I heard her say: "What was that?"
I said: "That was a shell, or a bomb."
She said: "I'm scared." I said "Me too."

Well all night long that noise kept on,
And the sound would chill you right to the bone.
The bullets and the bombs, and the mortar shells,
Shook our bed every time one fell,
And it never let up; it was gonna get worse,
Before it got any better.

Well when the sun came up, the noise died down,
We got a few minutes sleep, an' we were sleepin' sound,
When a soldier knocked on our door and said:
"Last night they brought in seven dead, and 14 wounded."
And would we come down to the base hospital, and see the boys.
"Yes!"

So we went to the hospital ward by day,
And every night we were singin' away.
Then the shells and the bombs was goin' again.
And the helicopters brought in the wounded men.
Night after night; day after day.
Comin' and a goin'.

So we sadly sang for them our last song,
And reluctantly we said: "So long."
We did our best to let 'em know that we care,
For every last one of 'em that's over there.
Whether we belong over there or not.
Somebody over here love's 'em, and needs 'em

Well now that's about all that there is to tell,
About that little trip into livin' hell.
And if I ever go back over there any more,
I hope there's none of our boys there for me to sing for;
I hope that war is over with,
And they all come back home,
To stay.

In peace.

Ira Hayes,
Ira Hayes

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Gather round me people there's a story I would tell
About a brave young Indian you should remember well
From the land of the Pima Indian
A proud and noble band
Who farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land

Down the ditches for a thousand years
The water grew Ira's peoples' crops
'Till the white man stole the water rights
And the sparklin' water stopped

Now Ira's folks were hungry
And their land grew crops of weeds
When war came, Ira volunteered
And forgot the white man's greed

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

There they battled up Iwo Jima's hill,
Two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again

And when the fight was over
And when Old Glory raised
Among the men who held it high
Was the Indian, Ira Hayes

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Ira returned a hero
Celebrated through the land
He was wined and speeched and honored; Everybody shook his hand

But he was just a Pima Indian
No water, no crops, no chance
At home nobody cared what Ira'd done
And when did the Indians dance

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Then Ira started drinkin' hard;
Jail was often his home
They'd let him raise the flag and lower it
like you'd throw a dog a bone!

He died drunk one mornin'
Alone in the land he fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch
Was a grave for Ira Hayes

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes
But his land is just as dry
And his ghost is lyin' thirsty
In the ditch where Ira died

San Quentin, I hate every inch of you.
You've cut me and have scarred me thru an' thru.
And I'll walk out a wiser weaker man;
Mister Congressman why can't you understand.

San Quentin, what good do you think you do?
Do you think I'll be different when you're through?
You bent my heart and mind and you may my soul,
And your stone walls turn my blood a little cold.

San Quentin, may you rot and burn in hell.
May your walls fall and may I live to tell.
May all the world forget you ever stood.
And may all the world regret you did no good.

San Quentin, you've been livin' hell to me.

Bully for you, surely?

Chicken in Black

For two long years my head hurt bad
So the doctor checked me and shook his head
He said "I'm sorry to tell you, but your body's outlived your brain"
He said "I know this doctor in New York, son,
and he'll fix you right up with a brand new one"
So the head doctor met me when I stepped down off the train
He said "We had this bank robber killed last night
His body's shot but his brain's all right
I'll give you a transplant, boy, and you'll be OK"
I got my new brain in and I was feelin' great
I went right back to Nashville with no headache
But something strange happened when I walked in the bank one day

CHORUS:
I said "Stick 'em up everybody I'm robbin' this place
Drop all of your money in my guitar case
Don't nobody move and don't nobody reach for that door"
A lady said "Why, you're Johnny Cash"
I said "No ma'am, I'm the Manhattan Flash
And I am the best bank robber in New York"

Now the other night Roy Acuff called me
He said "John, I'd like for you to do the Opry"
So I went out on the stage but I couldn't sing
I got into half a verse of "I Walk the Line"
And something snapped in this head of mine
I yelled "Stick 'em up! Give me your money, your
watches and rings!"

Well I called New York and talked to that brain quack
I said "Doc, I've gotta have my old brain back"
He said "I'm sorry there Mr. Cash but I can't do that"
He said "I put your brain in a chicken last Monday
He's singin' your songs and makin' lots of money
And I got him signed to a ten-year recording contract"

Now, friends, if you see me walkin' down the street
Remember what you see ain't necessarily me
And if I try to hold you up, don't pay me no mind
But when you got ten bucks that you can blow
You oughta catch that Johnny Chicken Show
He's doin' fairs and concert dates all up and down the line

CHORUS

Well, don't pay any income tax
You don't pay tax on money you steal
(Derisively yet with an air of resignation):
Chicken in black! Ummm...