Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song House Un-American Blues Activity Dream, artist - Mimi & Richard Fariña. Album song What You Gonna Call Your Pretty Little Baby, in the genre R&B
Date of issue: 30.09.2020
Record label: Biloba Jazz
Song language: English
House Un-American Blues Activity Dream |
I was standing on the sidewalk, had a noise in my head |
There were loudspeakers babbling, but nothing was said |
There were twenty-seven companies of female Marines |
There were presidential candidates in new Levi jeans |
It was the red, white and blue planning how to endure |
The fife, drum and bugle marching down on the poor |
God bless America, without any doubt |
And I figured it was time to get out |
Well, I have to b’lieve that in-between scenes, good people |
Went and got 'em done in the sun, good people |
Tourist information said to get on the stick |
You ain’t moving 'til you’re grooving with a Cubana chick |
So I hopped on a plane, I took a pill for my brain |
And I discovered I was feeling all right |
When I strolled down the Prado, people looked at me weird |
Who’s that hippy, hoppy character without any beard? |
Drinking juice from papayas, singing songs to the trees |
Dancing mambo on the beaches, spreading social disease |
Now the Castro convertible was changing the style |
A whole lot of action on a blockaded isle |
When along come a summons in the middle of night |
Saying, «Buddy, we’re about to indict» |
When I went up on the stand with my hand, good people |
You’ve got to tell the truth in the booth, good people |
Started out with information kind of remote |
When a patriotic mother dragged me down by the throat |
«When they ask you a question, they expect a reply!» |
Doesn’t matter if you’re fixin' to die |
Well, I was lying there unconscious, feeling kind of exempt |
When the judge said that silence was a sign of contempt |
He took out his gavel, banged me hard on the head |
He fined me ten years in prison and a whole lot of bread |
It was the red, white and blue making war on the poor |
Blind mother Justice on a pile of manure |
Say your prayers and the Pledge of Allegiance every night |
And tomorrow you’ll be feeling all right |
Uh-huh-huh |