Världshistoriens 10 bästa politiska låtar

9 to 5 – Dolly Parton

9 to 5, yeah, they got you where they want you
There’s a better life
And you think that I would daunt you
Its a rich mans game
No matter what they call it
And you spend your life
Puttin money in his wollet

Bombtrack – Rage Against The Machine

With the thoughts from a militant mind
Hardline, hardline after hardline

Landlords and power whores
On my people they took turns
Dispute the suits I ignite
And then watch ‘em burn

Burn, burn, yes ya gonna burn

Radioaktivität- Kraftwerk

Stopt Radioaktivität
Weil ‘s um unsere Zukunft geht
Stop Radioaktivität
Fur dich und mich im all Entsteht
Strahlentod und Mutation
Durch die Schnelle Kernfusion

Michael Jackson – Man In The Mirror

As I, Turn Up The Collar On My
Favourite Winter Coat
This Wind Is Blowin’ My Mind
I See The Kids In The Street,
With Not Enough To Eat
Who Am I, To Be Blind?
Pretending Not To See
Their Needs

Talkin’ ‘bout a revolution – Tracy Chapman

While they’re standing in the welfare lines
Crying at the doorsteps of those armies of salvation
Wasting time in unemployment lines
Sitting around waiting for a promotion

Don’t you know you’re talking about a revolution
It sounds like a whisper

The Message – Grandmaster Flash

You’ll grow in the ghetto, living second rate
And your eyes will sing a song of deep hate
The places you’re playin’, where you stay
Looks like one great big alley way
You’ll admire all the number book takers
Thugs, pimps, pushers and the big money makers
Driving big cars, spending twenties and tens
And you wanna grow up to be just like them, huh,

Take ‘em all – Cock sparrer

We worked our way up from east end pubs
To gigs and back stage passes
Ex-boxing champs, West end clubs
Americans in dark glasses
Driving ten grand cars, they drink in hotel bars
They’re even making money in bed
They wouldn’t be no loss, they aint worth a toss
It’s about time they all dropped dead

Street fighting man – Rolling stones

Ev’rywhere I hear the sound of marching, charging feet, boy
‘Cause summer’s here and the time is right for fighting in the street, boy
But what can a poor boy do
Except to sing for a rock ‘n’ roll band
‘Cause in sleepy London town
There’s just no place for a street fighting man
No

My Hometown – Bruce Springsteen

Now main streets whitewashed windows and vacant stores
Seems like there aint nobody wants to come down here no more
They’re closing down the textile mill across the railroad tracks
Foreman says these jobs are going boys and they aint coming back to
Your hometown, your hometown, your hometown, your hometown

Burnin’ and Lootin’ – Bob Marley and the Wailers

This morning I woke up in a curfew;
O god, I was a prisoner, too – yeah!
Could not recognize the faces standing over me;
They were all dressed in uniforms of brutality. eh!

How many rivers do we have to cross,
Before we can talk to the boss? eh!
All that we got, it seems we have lost;
We must have really paid the cost.