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Gil Scott-Heron
Gil Scott-Heron


Background information
Birth name Gilbert Scott-Heron
Born April 1, 1949
Born place Chicago, Illinois, U.S.
Genre(s) Soul
Years active 1969—present
Label(s) Arista Records
RCA Records
TVT Records
Associated acts Brian Jackson



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  G  →  Gil Scott-Heron  →  Albums  →  The Mind of Gil Scott-Heron

Gil Scott-Heron Album


The Mind of Gil Scott-Heron (1979)
1979
1.
H20 Gate Blues
2.
3.
4.
5.
The Ghetto Code (Dot Dot Dit Dit Dot Dot Dash)
6.
7.
Space Shuttle
. . .

H20 Gate Blues

[No lyrics]

. . .


We'd like to do an idea for you that was related to the H2OGaTe, Watergate blues
In March of 1973, we wrote the Watergate blues, and some 17 months later, then-President Nixon resigned
But the story didn't end there, so we didn't stop there
We have prepared a sequel, and it's called, and it's called "We Beg Your Pardon America"
We beg your pardon because the pardon you gave this time, was not yours to give

They call it due process and some people are overdue
We beg your pardon America
Somebody said "brother-man gonna break a window, gonna steal a hubcap, gonna smoke a joint, brother man gonna go to jail"
The man who tried to steal America is not in jail
"Get caught with a nickel bag brother-man, get caught with a nickel bag", says the lady on your way to get your hair fixed
"You'll do Big Ben, and Big Ben is time"
But the man who tried to fix America will not do time

Said they're going to slap his wrists, gonna retire him with 850 thousand dollars
And America was "shocked"
America leads the world in shocks
Unfortunately, America does not lead the world in deciphering the cause of shock
850 thousand dollars they said and the people protested and so they saw it like "we'll give him 200 thousand dollars"
Everybody said "OK, that's better"

I'd like to retire with 200 thousand dollars some day
San Quentin not San Clemente
Do not pass go, go directly to jail, do not collect 200 thousand dollars

We beg your pardon America
We beg your pardon because somehow the pardon did not sit correctly
What were - what were the causes for this pardon?
Well now they had "flea bite us"
Rats bite us, no pardon in the ghetto
They had national security, but do you feel secure with the man who tried to steal America back on the streets again?
What are the results of this pardon though? Because remember, when there's causes, there's results and the results is always deeper still
We now have Oatmeal Man

Anytime you find someone in the middle,
Anytime you find someone who is tepid,
Anytime you find someone who is lukewarm,
Anytime you find someone who has been in Congress for 25 years and no one ever heard of him,
You've got Oatmeal Man
Oatmeal Man, straddling uncomfortably, yards and feet of barbed wire
It's hard to live in the middle all the time

Oatmeal Man, the man who said you could fit all of his black friends in the trunk of his car and still have room for the Republican elephant
Oatmeal Man
But there was no crime committed
Oatmeal Man says that "America, in 1975 your president will be a 1913 Ford"
Regressive
Circle up the wagons to defend yourself from nuclear attack
Oatmeal Man, reminiscent of 1964's AuH2O, Gold Water
Thank god he didn't win, but Oatmeal man didn't win
Did you vote for him? I didn't vote for him

But that's the first results, and the second would be the Dred Rockefeller
Doubtlessly being promoted for the job he did at Attica, 43 dead and millions of Americans once again in shock
Doubtlessly being promoted for the job he did on the streets of New York city where the pushers sell the drugs that the government allows in the country, and then they do time
They do life, and death or life, and death behind bars, while William Saxby(?) says he is going to dismiss the Lorton Furlough program
And brother Richard X of Buffalo New York faces 13 hundred and 65 years - did he say one thousand three hundred and sixty five years? - behind bars for participating in Attica
And Rockefeller faces being the Vice President of this country
And all is calm and quiet along the white sands at San Clemente

We beg your pardon America, we beg your pardon once again
Because we found out that seven out of every ten black men behind jail, and most of the men behind jail are black
Seven out of every ten black men never went to the ninth grade
Didn't have 50 dollars and hadn't had 100 for a month when they went to jail
So the poor and the ignorant go to jail while the rich go to San Clemente

We beg your pardon America because we understand now much more deeply than we understood before
But we don't want to take the pardon back, we want to issue some more
Pardon brother Frank Willis, the Watergate security guard, he was only doing his job
Pardon H. Rap Brown, it was only burglary
Pardon Robert Vesco, it was only embezzlement
Pardon Charles Manson, it was only mass murder
And pardon us while we get sick
Because they pardoned William Calley, 22 dead, and America in shock

And we understand all the more deeply, and we beg your pardon
As unemployment spirals toward 7 percent, and it seems like 70 percent in my neighborhood
As unemployment spirals and as we watch cattlemen on TV shoot cows in the head and kick 'em in the graves while millions are starving in the Sahel(?) and Honduras and maybe even next door
We understand all the more deeply as Boston becomes Birmingham becomes Little Rock becomes Selma becomes Philadelphia, Mississippi, becomes yesterday all over again
We understand and we beg your pardon

We beg your pardon America because we have an understanding of karma
What goes around, comes around
And we beg your pardon for all of the lies and all of the people who've been ruined and who look forward to next year because they can't stand to look at this one
We beg your pardon America because the pardon you gave this time was not yours to give

Thank you very much. Thank you very much.

. . .


I have believed in my convictions
And have been convicted for my beliefs
Conned by the constitution
And harrased by the police.
I've been billed for the bill of rights
And been treated like I was wrong.
I have become a special amendment
For what included me all along.
Like "All men are created equal."
(No admendment needed here)
I've contributed in every field including cotten
From Sunset Strip to Washington Square.
Back during the non-violent era.
I was the only non-violent one.
As a matter of fact there was no non-violence
'cause too many rednecks had guns.
There seems to have been this pattern
That a lot of folks failed to pick up on.
But all black leaders who dared stand up
Wuz in jail, in the courtroom or gone.
Picked up indiscriminately
By the shocktroops of discrimination
To end up in jails or tied up in trails
While dirty tricks soured the nation.
I've been hoodwinked by professional hoods.
My ego has happened to me.
It'll be alright, just keep things cool!"
"And take the people off the street.
We'll settle all this at the conference table.
You just leave everything to me."
Which gets me back to my convictions
And being convicted for my belief
'cause I believe these smiles
in three piece suits
with gracious, liberal demeanor
took our movement off of the streets
and took us to the cleaners
In other words, we let up the pressure
And that was all part of their plan
And every day we allow to slip through our fingers
Is playing right into their hands

. . .


I had said I wasn't going to write no more poems like this
I had confessed to myself all along, tracer of life, poetry trends
That awareness, consciousness, poems that screamed of pain and the origins of pain and death had blanketed my tablets
And therefore, my friends, brothers, sisters, in-laws, outlaws, and besides -- they already knew
But brother Torres, common ancient bloodline brother Torres is dead
I had said I wasn't going to write no more poems like this
I had said I wasn't going to write no more words down about people kicking us when we're down
About racist dogs that attack us and drive us down, drag us down and beat us down
But the dogs are in the street
The dogs are alive and the terror in our hearts has scarcely diminished
It has scarcely brought us the comfort we suspected
The recognition of our terror and the screaming release of that recognition
Has not removed the certainty of that knowledge -- how could it
The dogs rabid foaming with the energy of their brutish ignorance
Stride the city streets like robot gunslingers
And spread death as night lamps flash crude reflections from gun butts and police shields
I had said I wasn't going to write no more poems like this
But the battlefield has oozed away from the stilted debates of semantics
Beyond the questionable flexibility of primal screaming
The reality of our city, jungle streets and their Gestapos
Has become an attack on home, life, family and philosophy, total
It is beyond the question of the advantages of didactic niggerisms
The motherfucking dogs are in the street
In Houston maybe someone said Mexicans were the new niggers
In LA maybe someone said Chicanos were the new niggers
In Frisco maybe someone said Orientals were the new niggers
Maybe in Philadelphia and North Carolina they decided they didn't need no new niggers
I had said I wasn't going to write no more poems like this
But dogs are in the street
It's a turn around world where things are all too quickly turned around
It was turned around so that right looked wrong
It was turned around so that up looked down
It was turned around so that those who marched in the streets with bibles and signs of peace became enemies of the state and risk to national security
So that those who questioned the operations of those in authority on the principles of justice, liberty, and equality became the vanguard of a communist attack
It became so you couldn't call a spade a motherfucking spade
Brother Torres is dead, the Wilmington Ten are still incarcerated
Ed Davis, Ronald Regan, James Hunt, and Frank Rizzo are still alive
And the dogs are in the motherfucking street
I had said I wasn't going to write no more poems like this
I made a mistake

. . .

The Ghetto Code (Dot Dot Dit Dit Dot Dot Dash)

[No lyrics]

. . .


Some people think that America invented the blues
And few people doubt that America is the home of the blues
As the bluesicians have gone all over the world carrying the blues message
And the world has snapped its fingers and tapped its feet right along with the blues folks
But, the blues has always been totally American
As American as apple pie
As American as the blues
As American as apple pie
The question is why?
Why should the blues be so at home here
Well, America provided the atmosphere

America provided the atmosphere for the blues and the blues was born
The blues was born on the American wilderness
The blues was born on the beaches where the slave ships docked
Born on the slave man's auction block
The blues was born and carried on the howling wind
The blues grew up a slave
The blues grew up as property
The blues grew up in Nat Turner visions
The blues grew up in Harriet Tubman courage
The blues grew up in small town deprivation
The blues grew up in big city isolation
The blues grew up in the nightmares of the white man
The blues grew up in the blues singing of Bessie and Billie and Ma
The blues grew up in Satchmo's horn, on Duke's piano and Langston's poetry, on Robeson's baritone

The point is
That the blues has grown
The blues is grown now, full grown
And you can trace the evolution of the blues
On a parallel line with the evolution of this country
From Plymouth Rock to acid-rock
From 13 states to Watergate
The blues is grown
But not the home
The blues is grown
But the country has not
The blues remembers everything the country forgot

It's a bicentennial year and the blues is celebrating a birthday
And it's a bicentennial blues

America has got the blues and it's a bicentennial edition
The blues view might amuse you
But make no mistake, it's a bicentennial year
A year of hysterical importance
A year of historical importance

Ripped off like donated moments from the past
200 years ago this evening
200 years ago last evening
And what about now?
The blues is now
The blues has grown up and the country has not
The country has been ripped off
Ripped off like the Indians
Ripped off like jazz
Ripped off like nature
Ripped off like Christmas
Man-handled by media overkill
Goosed by aspiring vice presidents
Violated by commercial corporations

A bicentennial year
The year the symbol transformed into the B-U-Y centennial
Buy a car
Buy a flag
Buy a map
Until the public in mass has been bludgeoned into bicentennial submission
Or bicentennial suspicion
I fall into the latter category
It's a blues year
And America has got the blues
It's got the blues because of partial deification
Of partial accomplishments
Over partial periods of time

Halfway justice
Halfway liberty
Halfway equality
It's a half-ass year

And we would be silly in all our knowledge
In all our self-righteous knowledge
When we sit back and laugh and mock the things that happen in our lives
To accept anything less than the truth
About this bicentennial year
And the truth relates to 200 years of people and ideas getting by

It got by George Washington
The ideas of justice, liberty and equality
Got cold by George Washington
Slave-owner general
Ironic that the father of this country
Should be a slave owner

The father of this country a slave-owner
Having got by him
It made it easy to get by his henchman
The creators of this liberty
Who slept in the beds with the captains of slave ships
Fought alongside black freed men in the union army
And left America a legacy of hypocrisy
It's a blues year

Got by Gerald Ford
Oatmeal man
Has declared himself at odds
With people on welfare, people who get food stamps
Day care children, the elderly, the poor, women
And people who might vote for Ronald Reagan

Ronald Reagan, it got by him
Hollyweird
Acted like a actor
Acted like a liberruuuuuuuulllzz lolz
Acted like General Franco when he acted like governor of California
Now he acts like somebody might vote for him for president

It got by Jimmy Carter
Skippy
Got by Jimmy Carter and got by him and his friend the colonel
The creators of southern-fried triple talk
A blues trio
America got the blues

It got by Henry Kissinger
The international godfather of peace
A piece of Vietnam
A piece of Laos
A piece of Angola
A piece of Cuba

A blues quartet
And America got the blues

The point is that it may get by you
For another 4 years
For another 8 years
You stuck
Playing 2nd fiddle in a blues quartet

Got the blues looking for the first principle
Which was justice
It's a blues year for justice

It's a blues year for the San Quentin 6
Looking for justice

It's a blues year for Gary Tyler
Looking for justice

It's a blues year for Rev. Ben Chaves
Looking for justice

It's a blues year for Boston
Looking for justice

It's a blues year for baby's on buses
It's a blues year for mothers and fathers with babies on buses
It's a blues year for Boston

And it's a blues year all over this country
America has got the blues
And the blues is in the street looking for the 3 principles
Justice, liberty and equality
We would do well to join the blues looking for justice, liberty and equality

The blues is in the street
America has got the blues
But don't let it get by us.

. . .

Space Shuttle

[No lyrics]

. . .


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