Tuesday Song Lyric

Radley Balko is keeping up the good work on the reprehensible Cary Maye's case. For my part, I've passed links to his page along to two people I know who are very close to Haley Barbour (I am related to one, and the other is one of the leading black republican's in the state). Not quite sure how the politics of this will play in Mississippi, but both agreed (from a thousand miles away) that the facts were pretty reprehensible.

I've seen posted in the comments to a few blogs excerpts from a very fitting Clash song. Thought it might be worth going all out and posting them as our Tuesday Song Lyric.

The Guns of Brixton
Words by Paul Simonon
Music by The Clash

When they kick at your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun

When the law break in
How you gonna go?
Shot down on the pavement
Or waiting on death row

You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh, the guns of Brixton

The money feels good
And your life you like it well
But surely your time will come
As in heaven, as in hell

You see, he feels like Ivan
Born under the Brixton sun
His game is called survivin'
At the end of the harder they come

You know it means no mercy
They caught him with a gun
No need for the Black Maria
Goodbye to the Brixton sun

You can crush us
You can bruise us
Yes, even shoot us
But oh-the guns of Brixton

When they kick at your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun

You can crush us
You can bruise us
Yes, even shoot us
But oh-the guns of Brixton

Shot down on the pavement
Waiting in death row
His game is called survivin'
As in heaven as in hell

You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh, the guns of Brixton