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Saturday, January 14, 2017

Winter In America: 'Ain’t Nobody Fighting Cause Nobody Knows What To Say'

 WINTER IN AMERICA
By GIL SCOTT-HERON 
Uh from the Indians who welcomed the pilgrims  
And to the buffalos who once ruled the plains  
Like the vultures circling beneath the dark clouds looking for the rain  
Looking for the rain Just like the cities stagger on the coastline  
In a nation that just can’t stand much more  
Like the forest buried beneath the highway, never had a chance to grow  
Never had a chance to grow And now it’s winter, winter in America  
Yes now that all of the killers have been killed, sent away,   
Yeah  
But the people know, the people know, it’s winter Winter in America  
And ain’t nobody fighting cause  
Nobody knows what to say  
Save your soul, lord knows from Winter in America  
The constitution, a noble piece of paper  
With free society, a struggle but they died in vain  
And now democracy is a ragtime on the corner  
Hoping for some rain  
It looks like he’s hoping, hoping for some rain  
And I see the robins perched in barren treetops  
Watching lasting racists marching across the floor  
Just like the peace sign that vanished in our dreams  
Never had a chance to grow  
Never had a chance to grow  
And now it’s winter  
Winter in America  
Yes now that all of the killers have been killed, or betrayed,  
Yeah  
But the people know, the people know, it’s winter  
Lord knows it’s winter in America  
And ain’t nobody fighting cause nobody knows what to say  
Save your soul  
From a winter in America  
Stick  
And now it’s winter Winter in America  
And now that all of the killers done been killed, sent away  
The people know, the people know, it’s winter Winter in America  
And ain’t nobody fighting cause nobody knows what to say  
And ain’t nobody fighting cause nobody knows nobody knows  
And ain’t nobody fighting cause nobody knows what to say 

Make no mistake about it, GIL SCOTT-HERON (1949-2011) is the true father of rap music, but aside from his oft-quoted poem-song, "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised," this brilliant spoken word performer labored in relative obscurity during his too short life. Gil called himself a”bluesologist,” and the stories he told in his fusion of jazz, blues and soul were eerily prescient.

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