This Machine Kills Fascists.

Anyone Who Used More Than Three Chords Is Just Showing Off.

All You Can Write Is What You See.

I Hate A Song That Makes You Think That You Are Not Any Good. I Hate A Song That Makes You Think That You Are Just Born To Lose. Bound To Lose. No Good To Nobody. No Good For Nothing. Because You Are Too Old Or Too Young Or Too Fat Or Too Slim Too Ugly Or Too This Or Too That.

I Worked In Your Orchards Of Peaches And Prunes. I Slept On The Ground In The Light Of The Moon. On The Edge Of The City You'll See Us And Then, We Come With The Dust And We Go With The Wind.

I Would Like To See Every Single Soldier On Every Single Side, Just Take Off Your Helmet, Unbuckle Your Kit, Lay Down Your Rifle, And Set Down At The Side Of Some Shady Lane, And Say, Nope, I Aint A Gonna Kill Nobody. Plenty Of Rich Folks Wants To Fight. Give Them The Guns.