A Protest Song for Our Time
I've become somewhat omnivorous in terms of music consumption: when someone says, "listen to this," and even better if he or she is willing to put it on a disc for ripping and later iPod uploading, I'm game. So it was a couple weeks back when a guy in my office burned a few hundred song files to a CD and I put them through the formats and added them to the 5,000-odd other tunes on the iPod.

Yesterday I'm walking to the subway and suddenly had my ears blown out, with my mind quickly following, by one of those songs, from the last Ted Leo & the Pharmacists album.

Here's the video, though I recommend turning the volume way up, closing your eyes and just listening, at least for the first time.

Below are the lyrics. Suffice it to say, though, that the song is so kinetic and heavy that I could see a tank commander getting as into it as the kid protesting his war...

Like a gray bird in a blue sky over a blue ocean civilized men fly,
Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.
Through puffy clouds and beautiful rainbows with the power and the speed
And the will to succeed, moneyed men fly high.
Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.Repeat.Bomb
No need to clomp around through the ash,the rubble, and the mud.
Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.
No need for face-to-face, or even worse to put a perfectly spit-shined brand new pair of leather boots on the dirty, busty ground.
Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.
Oh sure, you could mobilize a million troops
(but a thousand could probably get the job done)
But then people start to ask questions,
So when you drop in and out of the white clouds in a blue sky,
Don't worry about them having to see the whites of your eyes.
Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.
Just let the payload fly and wing on home, my son - it's not your day to die.
Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.
And when the crying starts, you won't have to see their bloodshot eyes turn red,
And when the dying starts, you won't have to know a thing about who's dead.
This is your mission: pretend it's television, where the good guys always win,
And they're gonna win again, because you're gonna bomb.
Oh, they can keep talking - let 'em keep talking - they can talk while the bombs fall around them, for all I care.
Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.
But when you've had enough of this diplomatic bullshit and your patience is up well alright!
It's on, and they asked for it.
Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.
Ah, but you'll want to give yourself a minute, to take in the beauty of the sight.
As you come in over the mountains between the green earth and the sky and bomb yes.
Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.
In and out, no mess, no fuss.
Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.
And when the crying starts, you won't have to see their bloodshot eyes turn red.
And when the dying starts, you won't have to know a thing about who's dead.
This is your mission -- like television - where the good guys always win.
And we're gonna win again because you're gonna,
Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.Repeat.Bomb.