A1) Huegelkultur symbolically bury authority the baton handed down for centuries no longer a tool of brutality now an instrument of sustainability wood, a waste of purpose why smash the cheek instead of caress it love re-purposes statism splintered police emblem mycologically infested an earthen brain a sepulcher that springs forth life an instrument of brutality buried in the ground i) the main way westerners interact with their environment is through food, and the biggest threat to both the planet and our own health is our disconnect from the earth. return to local, personal, sustainable agriculture or we all die.. ii) a huegelkultur is a mound of wood buried soil that acts as a sponge for spring rains, storing water for plants into the dry summer. so inhume all police batons and other wooden implements of oppression and use them to grow food, not to force compliance. A2) THE BEAST (SONG OF THE PUNCH PRESS OPERATOR) Pete Seeger and Bernie Packer I got a job in a factory Feeding a beast that don't like me. It don't give a darn about how I feel As long as I feed it its ration of steel. And pity the man who knows the grief That comes with the bite of that monster's teeth. Pity the man who knows the grief That comes with the bite of that monster's teeth. Watch your mitts at the start of the stroke, It's a re-peat killer, and will go for broke; It shoulda been melted 'bout twenty years back, But it feeds the boss, and he loves that snack. Oh, Beast, spare my hands, I'll use them to slay you if I get the chance. Oh, Beast, spare my hands, I'll use them to slay you if I get the chance. There ain't no guards to slow up a man, Keep your foot on the pedal and your eye on the ram. If your hand should slip, why, the boss don't shout; He just buys new fingers as he throws you out. There's plenty of hands to feed the jaws, The press don't stop when there ain't no cause. There's plenty of hands to feed the jaws, The press don't stop when there ain't no cause. There ain't one man out on the press, Who wouldn't quit if jobs weren't scarce; But a man has to have his daily meal, And that Beast's gotta have its cold, rolled steel. Deep inside remain the dreams That make us the masters of the machines. While deep inside remain the dreams That make us the masters of the machines. Well, now, I got a job in a factory Feeding a beast that don't like me. It don't give a darn about how I feel As long as I feed it its ration of steel. And pity the man who knows the grief That comes with the bite of that monster's teeth. Pity the man who knows the grief That comes with the bite of that monster's teeth. A3) MR BLUE - Tom Paxton Good morning Mister Blue, we've got our eyes on you. The evidence is clear, that you've been scheming. You like to steal away and while away the day. You like to spend an hour dreaming. What will it take, to whip you into line? A broken heart? A broken head? It can be arranged. Step softly Mister Blue, we know what's best for you. We know where your precious dreams will take you. You've got a slot to fill, and fill that slot you will. You'll learn to love it, or we'll break you. Oh, what will it take, to whip you into line? A broken heart? A broken head? It can be arranged. Be careful Mister Blue this phase you're going through, Can lead you nowhere else, but to disaster. Excuse us while we grin, you've worn our patience thin. It's time to show you who's your master. What will it take, to whip you into line? A broken heart? A broken head? It can be arranged. Don't worry Mister Blue, we'll take good care of you. Just think of it as sense and not surrender. But never think again, that you can think again, Or you'll get something you'll remember. What will it take to whip you into line? A broken heart? A broken head? It can be arranged. A4) WHAT ARE YOU FIGHTING FOR - Phil Ochs there is danger to the land you call your own you watch them build the war machine right beside your home tell me that you are ready to go marching off to war I know you’re set for fighting, but what are you fighting for? Turn on your tv, turn it on so loud And watch the fool a smiling there and tell me that you’re proud And listen to your radio, the noise it starts to pour Oh I know you’re set for fighting, but what are you fighting for? Read your morning papers, read every single line And tell me if you can believe that simple world you find Read every slanted word till your eyes are getting sore, ragged clothes upon your back and sleep upon the ground, And tell police about your rights as they drag you down, And ask them as they lead you to some deserted door, But the hardest thing I’ll ask you, if you will only try Is take your children by their hands and look into their eyes And there you’ll see the answer you should have seen before If you’ll win the wars at home, there’ll be no fighting anymore A5) THIS SHIT IS KILLING YOU the pace of your life the contents of your shopping cart your office chair sweatshop underwear its all connected and its killing you open your eyes read behind the lines step out of line every hair out of place is a step toward leaving no trace tick tock faster feed the master can't you see this shit is killing you. the stress-related illness of the american middle class, the 3rd world child laborer, and the ecosystem are all intertwined. relax and enjoy life a little bit. save yourself, someone else, and the planet. A6) BIG ROCK CANDY MOUNTAIN - Harry McClintock One evening as the sun went down And the jungle fires were burning, Down the track came a hobo hiking, And he said, "Boys, I'm not turning I'm headed for a land that's far away Besides the crystal fountains So come with me, we'll go and see The Big Rock Candy Mountains In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, There's a land that's fair and bright, Where the handouts grow on bushes And you sleep out every night. Where the boxcars all are empty And the sun shines every day And the birds and the bees And the cigarette trees The lemonade springs Where the bluebird sings In the Big Rock Candy Mountains. In the Big Rock Candy Mountains All the cops have wooden legs And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs The farmers' trees are full of fruit And the barns are full of hay Oh I'm bound to go Where there ain't no snow Where the rain don't fall The winds don't blow In the Big Rock Candy Mountains. In the Big Rock Candy Mountains You never change your socks And the little streams of alcohol Come trickling down the rocks The brakemen have to tip their hats And the railway bulls are blind There's a lake of stew And of whiskey too You can paddle all around it In a big canoe In the Big Rock Candy Mountains In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, The jails are made of tin. And you can walk right out again, As soon as you are in. There ain't no short-handled shovels, No axes, saws nor picks, I'm bound to stay Where you sleep all day, Where they hung the jerk That invented work In the Big Rock Candy Mountains. I'll see you all this coming fall In the Big Rock Candy Mountains A7) The Crow On the Cradle - Sydney Carter The sheep's in the meadow The cow's in the corn Now is the time for a child to be born He'll laugh at the moon And cry for the sun And if it's a boy he'll carry a gun Sang the crow on the cradle And if it should be that this baby's a girl Never you mind if her hair doesn't curl With rings on her fingers And bells on her toes And a bomber above her wherever she goes Sang the crow on the cradle The crow on the cradle The black and the white Somebody's baby is born for a fight The crow on the cradle The white and the black Somebody's baby is not coming back Sang the crow on the cradle Your mother and father will sweat and they'll save To build you a coffin and dig you a grave Hush-a-bye little one, never you weep For we've got a toy that can put you to sleep Sang the crow on the cradle Bring me my gun, and I'll shoot that bird dead That's what your mother and father once said The crow on the cradle, what can we do Ah, this is a thing that I'll leave up to you Sang the crow on the cradle Sang the crow on the cradle

B1) The Battle of Bulls Run B2) SCION & VICE SIN VICE SPONSORSHIP TAKE IT, IT IS FREE JUST A STRING TIED TO YOUR BELIEFS BLANK MIND WITH A SIMPLE NEED DO NOT QUESTION MOTIVES AND GREED SCION AND VICE A SIMPLE DIVIDE we feel that corporate sponsorship has no place in our lives, least of all in DIY music. Reject the influence of Scion, Toyota,, Vice Magazine, Pabst Blue Ribbon, Jagermeister, MillerCoors, or any business looking to exploit consumers...whether it be a multinational corporation or a local dive bar putting on “battle of the bands” competitions. do it yourself. B3) Bottled Water STOP DRINKING BOTTLED WATER. While bottled water might cost you 10,000 times more for the same exact water coming out of your tap, the real cost is to the environment. Drinking bottled water contributes to the Politicization and commercialization of our most precious life sustaining resource, as wells as creates mountains and oceans of trash. if you are absolutely convinced that some fucking shadowy reptilian overlords have put fluoride in municipal water to control your mind, there are many filtration methods that can remove it. who do you trust to purify and regulate your most basic need, nestle or yourself? B4) Stepping Into Daylight PREACH COMMUNITY AND A HELPING HAND BUT YOU STILL DRINK THE CORPORATE BEER TRAPPED IN YOUR SCENE THE MOST SUBVERSIVE THING YOU CAN EVER DO IS UNDERSTAND YOUR NEIGHBOR FUCK NIHILISM POSITIVE MOTION ONLY don’t just be part of a scene, be part of a community. do you expect anyone to understand and respect you if you don’t do the same? B5) ANTIBIOTIC MARKERS FOOD, IT’S A SIMPLE NEED NEVER CONSIDERED BY THE MAJORITY EVERY CEO THAT DISREGARDS SAFETY THERES A BULLET. THERES A SHALLOW GRAVE. WESTERN LIFESTYLE WESTERN MENTALITY WESTERN FARMING WESTERN MILITARY NOT A SINGLE GENERATION NEVER SEVEN even a simple decision like picking out what foods to eat puts you on the front lines of class war. let thy food be thy medicine and thy medicine be thy food.