Las Vegas Double Shot

Sin City

This old town is filled with sin / It’ll swallow you in
If you’ve got some money to burn
Take it home right away / You’ve got three years to pay
And Satan is waiting his turn…

CHORUS:
This old earthquake’s gonna leave me in the poorhouse
It seems like this whole town’s insane
On the thirty-first floor, a gold-plated door
Won’t keep out the Lord’s burning rain

The scientists say it will all wash away
But we don’t believe anymore
‘Cause we’ve got our recruits
and our green mohair suits
So please show your I.D. at the door

CHORUS

A friend came around, tried to clean up this town
His ideas made some people mad…
But he trusted  his crowd, so he spoke right out loud
And they lost the best friend they  had

CHORUS

On the thirty-first floor, a gold-plated door
Won’t keep out the Lord’s burning rain.

lyrics by Gram Parsons and Chris Hillman 1969

Viva Las Vegas

Bright light city gonna set my soul, gonna set my soul on fire
Got a whole lot of money that’s ready to burn, so get those stakes up higher
There’s a thousand pretty women waitin’ out there
And they’re all livin’ the devil may care
And I’m just the devil with love to spare, so
Viva Las Vegas, Viva Las Vegas
How I wish that there were more than the twenty-four hours in the day. . .
Even if there were forty more I wouldn’t sleep a minute away
Oh, there’s black jack and poker and the roulette wheel
A fortune won and lost on ev’ry deal
All you need’s a strong heart and a nerve of steel
Viva Las Vegas, Viva Las Vegas
Viva Las Vegas with you neon flashin’ and your one arm bandits crashin’
All those hopes down the drain
Viva Las Vegas turnin’ day into nighttime
Turnin’ night into daytime, if you see it once
You’ll never be the same again
I’m gonna keep on the run / I’m gonna have me some fun
If it costs me my very last dime
If I wind up broke up well, I’ll always remember that I had a swingin’ time
I’m gonna give it ev’rything I’ve got
Lady luck please let the dice stay hot
Let me shoot a seven with ev’ry shot, ah
Viva Las Vegas, Viva Las Vegas,
Viva Las Vegas, viva, viva Las Vegas . . .

 

Viva Las Vegas is a 1963 song written by Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman and recorded that same year by Elvis Presley for his Viva Las Vegas film vehicle, which along with the song was set for general release the year after. Although Presley never sang the song live, it has since become widely known and often performed by others.

Propaganda of the Poem

Here’s a pastoral ballad from the great American poet Eric B. ( not the one who used to drop lyrics with Rakim – I mean the one from Colorado who ran for mayor of San Francisco once) and a prophetic tribute to the noble warriors for Social Justice such as now swarm in the streets of many U.S. cities. Not sure what brought the professional agitators out  – someone got shot somewhere, or something like that.

Ferguson thug hopestyle

Riot: the unbeatable high Adrenalin shoots your nerves to the sky
Everyone knows this town is gonna blow And it’s all gonna blow right now
Now you can smash all the windows that you want
All you really need are some friends and a rock
Throwing a brick never felt so damn good
Smash more glassScream with a laugh
And wallow with the crowds / Watch them kicking peoples’ ass
But you get to the place / where the real slavedrivers live
It’s walled off by the riot squad / Aiming guns right at your head
So you turn right aroundAnd play right into their hands
And set your own neighborhood / Burning to the ground instead
Riot: the unbeatable high Riot: shoots your nerves to the sky
Riot: playing into their hands
Tomorrow you’re homeless Tonight it’s a blast!
Get your kicks in quick / They’re callin’ the national guard
Now could be your only chance / To torch a police car
Climb the roof, kick the siren in / And jump and yelp for joy
Quickly – dive back in the crowd Slip away, now don’t get caught
Let’s loot the spiffy hi-fi store / Grab as much as you can hold
Pray your full arms don’t fall off / Here comes the owner with a gun
Riot: the unbeatable high Riot: shoots your nerves to the sky
Riot: playing into their hands
Tomorrow you’re homeless Tonight it’s a blast!
[♪♫♪ BREAK ♫♫]
The barricades spring up from nowhereCops in helmets line the lines
Shotguns prod into your bellies / The trigger fingers want an excuse… NOW !
The raging mob has lost its nerve / There’s more of us but who goes first
No one dares to cross the line / The cops know that they’ve won
It’s all over but not quite / The pigs have just begun to fight
They club your heads, kick your teethPolice can riot all that they please
Riot: the unbeatable high Riot: shoots your nerves to the sky
Riot: playing into their hands
Tomorrow you’re homeless Tonight it’s a blast!
Tomorrow you’re homeless…  tonight it’s a blast…

“Riot” by Dead Kennedys [1982]