2020 Vision (What Will You Wear To The New Civil War?)
Lyrics written in 2020 by R.U. Sirius
Images by Chad Essley
1 actual recorded song and video by Phr!endz
Inscribed
I stole my aphorisms from a young girl named Tristan Tzara
I minored in comedy but I majored in horror
I reached my 100th year when I was 27
I was inscribed inside with a little hint of heaven
And I’m writing this prescription
From an anarchist jurisdiction
Which is just a slimy fantasy
Or wistful wisdom let it be
Idiocracy (The Documentary)
And the idiots rose up against The Farrow and cried
Tore off their masks and roared “Let my people die!”
And the Orange Messiah passed out pills and bleach
And everyone agreed “great again” was within reach
And they came with their guns
And even some with hair buns
And all the Karens and Jaspers
Were cheering from the rafters
And some nebbishy patricians
Were signing their petitions
To please their voter base
By appealing to their race
And as they caught and spread infection
Orange Messiah fucked with the election
And called the idiots to insurrection
Promised free Cheetos and police protection
And so the virus spread and spread
Until there were millions dead
And all the supply chains collapsed in dread
And couldn’t get the people fed
And that was just the early crisis
Idiocracy spread just like the virus
To every corner of the earth
And every nation sputtered and lurched
And the idiots rose up against the Farrow and cried
Tore off their masks and roared “Let my people die!”
And the Orange Messiah passed out pills and bleach
And everyone agreed “great again” was within reach
So kiss farewell to the well-mannered plutocracy
And wave hello to the global Idiocracy
Illusions Of Agency
The great society
The ideology
Culture theory
Timothy Leary
Plant a tree
Subversives on TV
Digital means free
Let’s try alchemy
R.U. Sirius
Act imperious
New edge freaks
All power to the geeks
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
The DNC
Crypto-anarchy
Spread a creed
Propaganda by deed
Wild schemes
My magazines
Guillotines
Control of the means
Hillary and Bill
The Triumph of the Will
A perfect peace pill
Mad skills
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
Spread a trope
Audacity of hope
Say nope to that joke
Demand better dope
Susan Sarandon
Charlie Manson
Hair of Samson
Dear Leader is handsome
Pontificator
Angry instigator
Be a player
Run for mayor
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
Transhumanism
Ideological schisms
Elon’s cybertruck
The belief in luck
Joseph Stalin
Marty Balin
Volunteers
Rock careers
Patty Hearst
Voodou curse
America first
Melania’s purse
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
Illusions of agency
Stay the course
Find the source
Use force
Express remorse
Bio-engineer
Manipulate through fear
Point and jeer
Let me steer
Blank Panther Party
The universe is made of Crayola
I lost the ‘70s thanks to payola
I was a member of the Blank Panther Party
Ripped on coke and Bacardi
I learned to multiplex before I could add
I was a murderess before I was sad
My micro-mini is way below my knees
I ain’t no goddamn tease
I hit the racetrack I was loaded with cash
Was feeling guilty and a wee bit rash
Bet all my fortune on a system crash
And now I’ve gotta dash
He couldn’t love him with his broken staff
Though he was clever and so good for a laugh
And now he’s telling me he’s learning a craft
He must be fuckin’ daft
Live Free Or Dye Your Hair Blue
(every other line is verse/chorus i.e. call/response, etc.)
What will you wear to the new civil war?
Live free or dye your hair blue
Who’s gonna be your new Tipper Gore?
Live free or dye your hair blue
Did you beat the militias to the gun store?
Live free or dye your hair blue
What will you wear to the new civil war?
Live free or dye your hair blue
Will it be televised virtual or raw?
What will you wear to the new civil war?
Will it be tearful fearful and more?
What will you wear to the new civil war?
They’ve got the bullets we’ve got the teens
What will you wear to the new civil war?
Scare ‘em up with pictures of guillotines
What will you wear to the new civil war?
His name’s Erik Prince and he’s not funky
Live free or dye your hair blue
Should we wear grunge or a wee bit punky?
Live free or dye your hair blue
Frilly shirts & scarves like those elegant junkies? (distant voice shouting … “it’s only rock and roll”)
Live free or dye your hair blue
What will you wear to the new civil war?
Live free or dye your hair blue
Mean Tweets
Meme Streets
Mean tweets
Viral life
Virtual strife
Stuck in time
Such a bind
Sick and tired
Upload my mind
Meme Streets
Mean tweets
Bored teens
On screens
No touch
Thanks much
Tik Tok
Is my crutch
Meme Streets
Mean tweets
Scorcese’s
Goin’ crazy
Mean trolls
Meme scolds
Disembodied
Assholes
Meme Streets
Mean tweets
Viral life
Virtual strife
Stuck in time
Such a bind
Sick and tired
Upload my mind
Deleuze Guattari Gnash & Jung
Deleuze Guattari Gnash & Jung
They weren’t having too much fun
Til Dylan came along in a big-ass truck
Sayin’’ “Hey who really gives a fuck?”
They all piled in pointing at him
Taking narcotics and drinking gin
Bob asked “who here plays guitar
Who else here is a fuckin’ star?
& if you don’t like blues harmonica
Get the fuck out my car”
Well they had to think of something
Deleuze started humming
Then Jung started dreamin’
And Gnash started schemin’
Bob said “that’ll have to do”
Guattari said “I ain’t no fool
Let’s cruise drunken through the burbs
Pretend that we’re the angry birds”
They saw the white men cooking chicken
That is when the plot did thicken
While Deleuze and Guattari screamed like birds
Dylan didn’t say a fuckin’ word
Soon the neighbors with their guns
Cried “go elsewhere with all your fun
We like Bob Dylan and we like puns
But we have no truck with Carl Jung”
And just to make them stay away
Said “Last week we fucked up Dr. Dre
And if you wanna see the dawn
Hey hey you you get offa my lawn”
(rept many times)
They said “hey hey you you get offa my lawn
Our Cruel Father Who Art Beheaded
Our cruel father who art beheaded
Shallow be thy almost long tail
Thy ghosts are feted no statues erected
& all the tasty treatises are pungent stale
You took a wish upon a star
Even your golf game was subpar
And there’s no remorse just one less source
Of crumblin’’ dice & slammed shut doors
Our cruel father
Lost his head
Who will bake
All the children bread
Who will run
The important biznesses
Who will count
All the lesser sicknesses
Our cruel father who art beheaded
Swallowed much too much for one man
Took his sadness to the blood bank
Now there’s nothing much left to brand
With all the sins the eater consumes
All the letting a million lilacs bloom
All the fantasies dreamed by the TV
All the tricks that say can you see
Our cruel father
Lost his head
Who will bake
All the children bread
Who will run
The important biznesses
Who will count
All the lesser sicknesses
Failed State
You made it great (again)
Failed state
Lots of hate
President Jape
It’s been a long time comin’
It’s been a long strange bummin’
All those sad cats lamely strummin’
And the stunners who were stunning
And the millions killed by our wars
And the millions locked behind bars
And all the really cherry cars
And we had all the movie stars
And Kesey with his funny bus
And all the factories shut & rusting
And H. Rap Brown who didn’t lie
Said violence is American as Apple pie
And Siddartha says it’s suffer then die
And all the sacred cows on the frier
And maybe you should just take a flyer
At what might motivate the buyer
All the chickens comin’ home to roost
And their favorite actor John Wilkes Booth
And the old ones acting so uncouth
Dignity today belongs to the youth
You made it great (again)
Failed state
Lots of hate
President Jape
Be Where When?
There’s nothing happening here
The sky isn’t clear
Bad weirdness big fear
When were we to be here
Now?
There’s nothing happening here
Chin up – Don’t grumble
The way the cookie crumbles
And civilization tumbles
Now?
There’s nothing happening here
They say be best is better
We’re all in this together
‘Cept those living out in the weather
Now?
Punters fighting punters
Owners sailing yachts
You can jump into the fire
But you better pack your Reeboks
Now
IGNORE
Ignore
Out of boredom or torpor
The trending thing is so soporific
& your beauty & the moonlight is so terrific
So ignore
Ignore
Every Marie Kondo urging you pep talk
Every ugly rumor about Johnny Depp
Just ignore
& when you’re stuck in traffic
Some MAGA wearing a leather jacket
Some argument that trades logic for static
Ignore
And if everybody else lost the plot
& you ask are they really alive or not
Just lay yourself down on the cot
Have some whiskey & a little pot
& ignore
Grimes & Me Make 3
There’s no place to roam
No place is much like home
Everybody must get scolded
Every business must get folded
Gonna go into space
Get some AI to take my place
Gonna change my race
Be psychotic and set the pace
Gonna steal Grimes
Take her to the highest climb
Musk will feel so punked
After Grimes sprouts their man junk
Gonna be gender free
Every scene will involve a threesome
Two of them will be me
The other one will be lovely gruesome
They Canceled Lenny Bruce
Do you remember when chaos was a state of play
Do you remember “punk rock is here to stay”
Do you remember when Sister Ray was très outré
When Bowie asked… “or even yesterday?”
I’m wearing deplatform shoes
I’ve got the fear monger blues
When you ain’t got somewhere
You got no choice to choose
And now I’m yesterday’s news
They canceled Lenny Bruce
I still have a glimmer of rascalinity
But now it’s one inch short of divinity
My jest is a million miles from infinity
I may be creepy crawling to morbidity
I’m wearing deplatform shoes
I’ve got the fear monger blues
When you ain’t got somewhere
You got no choice to choose
And now I’m yesterday’s news
They canceled Lenny Bruce
I used to chatter to the birds and bees
Grabbed the branches and climbed the trees
I’m picking fleas, man… all this disease
All that’s left now is to vomit and sneeze
I’m wearing deplatform shoes
I’ve got the fear monger blues
When you ain’t got somewhere
You got no choice to choose
And now I’m yesterday’s news
They canceled Lenny Bruce
At The End Of Their Tether
Everybody seems to have a Tarot deck
Everybody seems to be gasping for breath
Everybody says soon things will get better
Things will get better at the end of their tether
They tried to cast a magick dispel
But it reeked of swamp gas and victory marches
So they set aside years to work on the smell
And build a new cosmos from inside a shell
Then in a bubble the cosmos drifted
And they were left behind when winds shifted
Yet still they made plans — at least the men did
They opened some bars and bought some guitars
And it was all pretty basic
If only they’d faked it
They would have put paid
To that runaway cosmos
That now smelled like a rose
They got so goddamn close
To be just another
Average dead sucker
Everybody seems to have a Tarot deck
Everybody seems to be gasping for breath
Everybody says soon things will get better
Things will get better at the end of their tether
(Boomer Please) Buy My Apocalypse Songs
While you’re standing around
Waiting for your grandkids to drown
Or maybe catch fire
After you’re dead and retired
You may as well listen
Get high and get pissed
To my apocalypse songs
Yes listen to this shit
Boomer please
I’m down on my knees
Everything has gone wrong
Buy my apocalypse songs
I’ve got profiles in discourage
From The Airplane to the bees
Failed stories faded glories
All you need is flowers and beads
From Stealers Wheel to The Troggs
From glitter glam to 60s mods
And there was surely Pussy Galore
Stick around you won’t get bored
Boomer please
I’m down on my knees
Everything has gone wrong
Buy my apocalypse songs
Fake Fur
I know that outrage is de rigueur
So I’m at the rally in fake fur
I am human hear me purr
Do I dare to cause a stir?
The stars are out and preening
Tonight they’re seeking meaning
And they’re gazing at the ceiling
Gonna send the nation reeling
Do you dare to eat a peach?
Do you dare to sneak a peek?
While blazing at the beach?
Do you care to make a speech?
And I said “don’t get riled
Take a walk on the mild side”
I said “don’t get riled
Take a walk on the mild side”
Cause of all the things we must detest
Fake fur says it the best
So don’t get riled
Take a walk on the mild side
Flabbergasted
Well I used to be disgusted
And then I tried to be amused
But now I’m just plain flabbergasted
At the depth of the abuse
And I’m not singing ‘bout a bad date
And I’m not singing ‘bout ya 2 minutes hate
I’m looking at the new level of crazy
With their hands wrapped around our fate
Does anybody remember the quantified life?
(R. Plant voice) Does anybody remember laughter?
Does anybody remember the balcony speeches?
Does anyone remember bloodletting and leeches?
Does anyone remember the days before then?
Lugubrious meetings with remake-able men
& Little Brother is watching one and other
So mark your turf — Then run for cover
Year Zero
Thanks a lot
Pol Pot
Hot to trot
Forget me not
Year zero
What a hero
Nero’s fiddle
No Middle
The bride stripped bare
The pride sniffs the air
He should put it all out there
They’ll appreciate his flair
And he’ll show them that he cares
And that he’s so aware
The pride sniffs the air
When the bride strips bare
Is she chic — au contraire
She’s barely even there
He’s no great catch to be fair
And he hopes she doesn’t scare
He’s got toxic in the pocket
And he’ll break down if she mocks it
But he’ll always preserve a locket
Of her bride stripped bare hair
Thanks a lot
Pol Pot
Hot to trot
Forget me not
Year zero
What a hero
Nero’s fiddle
No Middle
The Stepfather of Our Country
He was the stepfather of his country
But he raised the kids as his own
He gave them ears of corn — oodles of porn
But when they bought bad cocaine they earned his scorn
& when they all got older
He turned them into soldiers
Strapping tote bags to their shoulders
filled with weapons of mirth
It was all rather cheery
He read them Dr. Leary
Until those silly numbskulls
Decided to give birth
That was just the final straw
This was just what killed their pa
“Birth & death stay from my door
What do you think the porn was for?
To make you each one onanistic
Now I’ll get a bit fascistic”
One by one he ate his grandkids
Chowed them down like gutted pigs
Except one who was schizophrenic
& could produce some anaesthetic
Together they drifted into a coma
Singing gleeful songs of soma
& thus a world was born & died
All because of a stepdads pride
It takes a village to make things fair
Fuckin’ stepdad didn’t care
The Smarter King Of Deliria
The girl at the ticket booth
Started wailing and weeping
With all the grieving
A body could hold seething
& the bouncer standing near to me
With cracked and violent idiot glee
Was swinging his fists randomly
Saying everybody gets in for free
But first you have to get passed me
Everyone from all around
saying stuff that sounds profound
& a smarter king of Deliria
That day was duly crowned
& if you listen a wee bit closer
To all the people in the ground
You’ll hear them screaming loud
& this is the sound
[follow with Ornette Coleman meets Jimi Hedrix 8 minute jam]
Rebel Without A Mask
I was greasy in the ‘50s
Freaky in the ‘60s
My idea of ‘70s fun
Was “carry on my wayward son”
But all of that is in the past
I support the Ruling Crass
Did you think I’d wear a mask?
You don’t even have to ask
Cause I’m a rebel without a mask
James Dean with a modern task
I’m using up my remaining sass
To be a rebel without a mask
I’m with you if you’re with Q
So many red pills still to do
So many weird things but they’re true
I’ll spread the news to the young dudes
And if YouTube kicks me off
I’ll tell R.U. he’s going soft
Don’t you wanna question authority
Naked and maskless near the sorority?
Cause I’m a rebel without a mask
James Dean with a modern task
I’m using up my remaining sass
To be a rebel without a mask
Actual Apocalypse
Everyone’s a prepper now
Everyone’s a mutilated cow
Everyone is making vows
Everybody take a final bow
Actual apocalypse
It isn’t fun like watching Mad Max
it isn’t clever like Oliver Sacks or
Insanely great like Steve Jobs’ Macs
One mask is for the disease
One mask is for the smoke
One mask is for avoiding police
Last toke before we’re broken
Actual apocalypse
It isn’t fun like watching Mad Max
it isn’t clever like Oliver Sacks or
Insanely great like Steve Jobs’ macs
2020 this was the year
2020 the vision is clear
Gonna need four more beers
Drown the fire in my tears
Actual apocalypse
It isn’t fun like watching Mad Max
it isn’t clever like Oliver Sacks or
Insanely great like Steve Jobs’ macs
Ring around the platitudes
A pocket full of smug
Ashes ashes
Ashes ashes
Ashes ashes
Ashes ashes
Ashes ashes
Ashes ashes
Ashes ashes
Ashes ashes
Ashes ashes
Ashes ashes
Ashes ashes
Ashes ashes
The post 2020 Vision (What Will You Wear To The New Civil War?) appeared first on Mondo 2000.
