Альбом Gil Scott-Heron

You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip,
Skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds
thinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.

There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.

Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and
women will not care if Dick finally gets down with
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom
Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be right back after a message
bbout a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your
bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver's seat.

The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.

I was doin' it when I was a colored boy of eight or nine or ten
I had never heard of Sigmund Freud but hell I was doin' it then
I was doin' it in my teenaged years when I was running the ghetto streets
Now I had never seen me no ink blot test but it still felt good to me
I was doin' it when I arrived in college searching for my degree
But Lord knows a degree wasn't all I got and that's the way it's supposed to be
I hope that when I have kids of my own they really don't get shook
When I tell them that there are things they've got to learn that can't be found in books.

I know you think you're cool
Lord if they bus your kids to school
I know you think you're cool
Just cuz they bus your kids to school
But you ain't got a thing to lose
You just got the get out of the ghetto blues
I know you think you're cool
If you're gettin' two WELFARE checks
You done told me you think you're cool
Because you're gettin' two WELFARE checks
Yea but you got ten years to lose (if they catch you)
Just tryin' to fight that get out of the ghetto blues
If he don't catch you in the wash
Lord knows he'll catch you in the rinse
I know you think you're cool
Just cuz you shooting that stuff in your arm
I seen you nodding
Cuz you shoot that stuff in your arm
And it don't matter which pine box you choose
You got the get out of the ghetto blues

You explained it to me I must admit
But just for the record you were talkin' shit
Y'all rap about no knock bein' legislated
For the people you've always hated
In this hell hole you, we, call home

No knock, the man will say
To keep that man from beating his wife
No knock, the man will say
To protect people from themselves

No knockin', head-rockin', inter-shockin'
Shootin', cussin', killin', cryin', lyin'
And bein' white
No knock

No knocked on my brother Fred Hampton
Bullet holes all over the place
No knocked on my brother Michael Harris
And jammed a shotgun against his skull

For my protection?
Who's gonna protect me from you?
The likes of you?
The nerve of you?
Your tomato face deadpan
Your dead hands ending another freedom fan

No knockin', head rockin', inter-shockin'
Shootin', cussin', killin', cryin', lyin'
And bein' white

But if you're wise, no knocker
You'll tell your no-knockin' lackeys
Ha!
No knock on my brother's head
No knock on my sister's head
No knock on my brother's head
No knock on my sister's head

And double lock your door
Because soon someone may be no-knockin'
Ha, ha!
For you

(No knock: To be slipped into John Mitchell's suggestion box.)

Ever feel kinda down and out, you don't know just what to do
Livin' all of your days in darkness let the sun shine through
Ever feel that somehow, somewhere you've lost your way
And if you don't get help quick you won't make it through the day
Could you call on Lady Day, could you call on John Coltrane
Now ‘cause they'll, they'll wash your troubles, your troubles, your troubles away

Plastic people with plastic minds are on their way to plastic homes
No beginning there ain't no ending just on and on and on and on and on, it's
All because they're so afraid to say that they're alone
Until our hero rides in, rides in on his saxophone
Could you call on Lady Day, could you call on John Coltrane
Now ‘cause they'll, they'll wash your troubles, your troubles,
your troubles away

Jagged jigsaw pieces
Tossed about the room
I saw my grandma sweeping
With her old straw broom
She didn't know what she was doing
She could hardly understand
That she was really sweeping up..
Pieces of a man

I saw my daddy greet the mailman
And I heard the mailman say
"Now don't you take this letter to heart now Jimmy
Cause they've laid off nine others today"
He didn't know what he was saying
He could hardly understand
That he was only talking to
Pieces of a man

I saw the thunder and heard the lightning!
And felt the burden of his shame
And for some unknown reason
He never turned my way

Pieces of that letter
Were tossed about that room
And now I hear the sound of sirens
Come knifing through the gloom
They don't know what they are doing
They could hardly understand
That they're only arresting
Pieces of a man

I saw him go to pieces
I saw him go to pieces
He was always such a good man
He was always such a strong man
Yeah, I saw him go to pieces
I saw him go to pieces

A junkie walking through the twilight
I'm on my way home
I left three days ago, but no one seems to know I'm gone
Home is where the hatred is
Home is filled with pain and it,
might not be such a bad idea if i never, never went home again

stand as far away from me as you can and ask me why
hang on to your rosary beads
close your eyes to watch me die
you keep saying, kick it, quit it, kick it, quit it
God, but did you ever try
to turn your sick soul inside out
so that the world, so that the world
can watch you die

home is where I live inside my white powder dreams
home was once an empty vacuum that's filled now with my silent screams
home is where the needle marks
try to heal my broken heart
and it might not be such a bad idea if I never, if I never went home again
home again
home again
home again
kick it, quit it
kick it, quit it
kick it, quit it
kick it, can't go home again

We deal in too many externals, brother.
Always afros, handshakes, and dashikis.

Never can a man build a working structure for black capitalism.
Always does a man read Mao or Fanon.

I think I know you would-be black revolutionaries too well.
Standing on a box on a corner, talking about blowing the white boy away.
That's not where it's at, yet, brother.

Calling this man an Uncle Tom,
And telling this woman to get an afro,
But you won't speak to her if she looks like hell, will you, brother?

Some of us been checking you act out kinda closely.
And by now it's looking kinda shaky, the way you been rushing people with your super-black bag.
Jumping down on brothers with both feet because they are after their B.A.
But you're never around when your B.A. is in danger.
I mean your black ASS.

I think it was a little too easy to forget that you were a negro before Malcolm.
You drove your white girl through the village every Friday night,
While the grass roots stared in envy and drank wine.
Do you remember?

You need get your memory banks organized, brother.
Show that man you call an Uncle Tom just where he is wrong.
Show that woman that you are a sincere black man.

All we need you to do is SHUT UP AND BE BLACK.
Help that woman.
Help that man.
That's what brothers are for, brother.

If you're driving through the country on a lazy afternoon
Or you're watching your children playin' after school
They seem to be so unaware of I know I know
The things that they soon have to take care of

We got to do something yeah to save the children
Soon it will be their test to try and save the world
Right now they seem to play such a small part of
The things that they soon be right at the heart of

My little Tommy he said he wants to be a fireman
And little Mary she said she got to teach at school
If we know or we say we know about the problems ohohoh
Why can't we do something to try and solve them

We got to do something yeah to save the children
Soon it will be their test to try and save the world
We got to do something yeah to save the children
To save the children
To save the children

A rat done bit my sister Nell.
(with Whitey on the moon)
Her face and arms began to swell.
(and Whitey's on the moon)
I can't pay no doctor bills.
(but Whitey's on the moon)
Ten years from now I'll be payin' still
While Whitey's on the moon.
You know, the man jus' upped my rent las' night,
'cause Whitey's on the moon.
No hot water, no toilets, no lights,
but Whitey's on the moon.
I wonder why he's uppi' me?
'cause Whitey's on the moon?
Well I wuz already givin' 'im fifty a week
And now Whitey's on the moon.
Taxes takin' my whole damn check,
The junkies make me a nervous wreck,
The price of food is goin' up,
An' as if all that crap wuzn't enough,
A rat done bit my sister Nell.
(with Whitey on the moon)
Her face an' arms began to swell
And Whitey's on the moon.
Was all that money I made las' year
For Whitey on the moon?
How come I ain't got no money here?
Hmm! Whitey's on the moon.
Y'know I jus' about had my fill
Of Whitey on the moon.
I think I'll sen' these doctor bills,
Airmail special

To Whitey on the moon

Gil Scott-Heron

Did you hear what they said,
Did you hear what they said,
Did you hear what they said,
They said another brother's dead,
They said he's dead...but he can't be buried,
They said he's dead...but he can't be buried,
Come on, come on,come on,come on
this can't be real.

Did you hear what they said,
Did you hear what they said,
Did you hear what they said,
They said,they shot him in his head,
a shot in the head to save his country,
a shot in the head to save his country,
Come on, come on,come on,come on
this can't be real.

Did you hear what they said,
Yeah did you hear what they said,
Did you hear what they said,
About his mother and how she cried,
They said she cried,'cause her only son was dead
They said she cried,'cause her only son was dead
Woman,could you imagine if your only son was dead
And somebody told you,he couldn't be buried,
hey,hey,come on,come on,come on,come on
this can't be real.

You always go out of your way to impress me
Don't you know by now, ain't no need to impress me
I'm impressed every time you smile
When I feel like you mean to smile

You can be so very beautiful
When you are who you are

Every morning when you wake up you put on a new disguise
How long did you long did you think it would take me to realize?
Girl, the things you wore ain't real
You never tell me just how you feel

Girl you can be so very beautiful
When you are who you are

People never seem to want to be themselves
So they end up running in circles confused
Yeah, confused
Just like everyone else

Every morning when you wake up you put on a new disguise
Just how long did you think it would take me to realize
That the things you wore ain't real
You never tell me just how you feel

When you could be so very beautiful
When you are who you are
Yeah, when you are who you are, yeah
Oh, when you are who you are, yeah
When you are who you are, yeah
When you are who you are
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get it

When you are who you are, yeah
Oh when you are who you are, yeah
Oh when you are who you are, yeah
Oh when you are who you are

I'm gonna take myself a piece of sunshine
And paint it all over my sky
Be no rain..
Be no rain..

I'm gonna take the song from every bird
And make em sing it just for me
Bird's got something to teach us all
About being free, yeah
Be no rain..
Be no rain..

And I think I'll call it morning
From now on
Why should I survive on sadness?
And tell myself I got to be alone
Why should I subscribe to this world's madness?
Knowing that I've got to live on
Yeah I think I'll call it morning
From now on

I'm gonna take myself a piece of sunshine
And paint it all over my sky
Be no rain...
Be no rain...

I'm gonna take the song from every bird
And make them sing it just for me
Cause why should I hang my head
Why should I let tears fall from my eyes?
When I've seen everything there is to see
And I know there is no sense in crying
I know there ain't no sense in crying
Yeah I think I'll call it morning
From now on
I'll call it morning from now on, yeah

Cause there ain't gonna be no rain
Be no rain
Be no rain
From now on...

It's a sign of the ages
Markings on my mind
A Man at the crossroads
At odds with an angry sky

There can be no salvation
There can be no rest
Until all old customs
Are put to the test

The gods are all angry
You hear from the breeze
As night slams like a hammer
Yeah, and you drop to your knees

The questions can't be answered
You're always haunted by the past
The world's full of children
Who grew up too fast

Yeah, but where can you run
Since there ain't no world of your own
And you know that no one will ever miss you, yeah yeah yeah
When you're finally gone

So you cry like a baby, a baby
Or you go out and get high
But there ain't no peace on Earth, man
Maybe peace when you die, yeah

I sail out on my paper ship
The sea is made of fire
I ride my horse of nuts and bolts
We made to never tire

The world is just a simple circle
I've got to keep on turning, yeah
I've got to keep on turning
'Til I fall

Down to the top of a mountain
Inside a hollow stone
I pretend that I'm an iron man, yeah
Instead of flesh and bone

The world is just a simple circle
And it keep on turning, yeah
And it keep on turning
You've got to

Go away
I can't stand to see your face
Cause you've seen the weakest me
And now you know I'm only human
Instead of all the things I'd like to be

The world is just a simple circle
You've got to keep on turning, yeah
You've got to keep on turning
Or down you fall

A circle spinning faster
And getting larger all the time
A whirlpool spelled disaster
For all the people who don't rhyme

Him who don't fit through the needle's eye
Him who just don't understand
Understand, understand, understand

A brand new sense of freedom
A brand new sense of time
Him may go and stand alone now
And leave the hate and fear behind

All the millions spent for killing
Seems the whole world must be dying
All the children who go hungry
How much food we could be buying

Him who don't fit through the needle's eye
Him who just don't understand
Understand, understand, understand

A brand new sense of freedom
A brand new sense of time
Him may go and stand alone now
And the leave the hate and fear behind

People wake up every morning
And simply push their lives aside
They seem to carry all their feelings
Crushed and crumbled up inside
Inside, inside, inside

Him who don't fit through the needle's eye
Him who just don't understand

So I went to see my father
Many questions on my mind
But he didn't want to answer me
God, the whole world must be blind

Him who don't fit through the needle's eye
Him may someday go insane
Insane, insane, insane

Without a brand new sense of freedom
A brand new sense of time
Him may go and stand alone now
And leave the hate and fear behind, yeah, behind

Here I am, after so many years
Hounded by hatred and trapped by fear
I'm in a box, I've got no place to go
If I follow my mind, I know I'll slaughter my own.

Help me I'm the prisoner, won't you hear my plea
I need somebody, yeah, to listen to me
I beg you, brothers and sisters, I'm counting on you (yeah).

Black babies in the womb are shackled and bound
Chained by the caveman who keeps beauty down
Smacked on the ass when they're squalling and wet
Heir to a spineless man who never forgets

Never forgets that he's a prisoner, can't you hear my plea
Cause I need somebody, Lord knows, to listen to me
I'm a stranger to my son who wonders why his daddy runs.

On my way to work in the morning when I don't give a damn
Can't nobody, can't nobody, can't nobody, can't nobody see just who in hell I am
Hemmed in by a suit, yes all choked up in a tie
Ain't no wonder some times near morning I hear my woman cry
She knows her man is a prisoner, won't you hear my plea
Yeah, cause I need somebody, wooo, to listen to me
My woman she don't say but she hates to see her man chained this way
Yeah, help me, I'm the prisoner
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm the prisoner