Aranos: Tax (Pieros 010CD)
Tax is a record with a political theme. How much tax we all pay? Usually we think of income tax only, (which incidentally was introduced in England to pay for Napoleonic wars and was and is collected ever since). But we also pay tax on all purchases and services. It is a lot of money and proportion of it goes on war. More in some countries, less in others. In global economy we all pay for all the wars everywhere.
Example: Parts of this computer were made in China, by giving Chinese government some of my money I also pay for weapons that Burmese government uses to brutalise it’s population.
Now what is war? Bunch of people dressed in costumes (uniforms) killing another bunch of people dressed in different costumes. These costumes enable them to behave in a fashion that would be considered criminal under different circumstances. The military costume wearers do not know anything about the other costume wearers; some of them might be perfectly nice people. But they wear different clothes so “KILL THEM!” Insane or what? And my (and your) tax is paying for this.
In concept the record is fairly original in that it treats one theme and it’s aspects, a bit like an oratorio on the theme “lament about human stupidity”.
What can we do? I do not know, Maybe we can start thinking about demanding different approach by our leaders; after all it is our money.
Aranos (pronounced Aranyosh) is a prolific composer and storied multi-instrument performer from the Czech part of Bohemia, by way of Ireland, where he lives near his friend and frequent collaborator Steven Stapleton of Nurse With Wound. His lengthy discography includes releases issued by Beta-lactam Ring Records, Brainwashed, Crouton, Klanggalerie, Noise Museum and United Daries as well as his own label Pieros.
Track 2: I Pay
Tax
I woke up this morning
Switched on the light
Brushed my teeth
to make them pearly white and bright
That's when it hit me
like stick of dynamite
how much I pay in tax
I pay tax on my toothpaste
I pay tax on my toothbrush
I pay tax on the water
I pay tax on the light
I pay tax on my pillow
I pay tax on the bed
I pay tax on my blanket
I pay tax on bedspread
I pay tax on my socks
I pay tax on my shoes
I pay tax on my shirt and whatever I use
I pay tax, tax, tax....
And what about you? |
Track 3: You Pay Tax
You pay tax on the road
You pay tax on your humble abode
You pay tax on your car
You pay tax wherever you are
You pay tax on your gasoline
You pay tax wherever you have been
You pay tax on money you earn
You pay tax on money you burn
Whether you are a master or a slave
You pay tax on all the money you save
You pay tax on whatever you give
You pay tax as long as you live
You pay tax on whatever you buy
You pay tax even when you die
You might be a simpleton or a boffin
You still have to pay tax on your coffin
Whether you are cowardly or brave
You still have to pay tax on your grave
Whether you were cruel or kind
You still have to pay tax on what you left behind |
Track 4: Wouldn't You Like to Know?
Wouldn't you like to Wouldn't you like to Wouldn't you like to know
Where does all the money go?
Where does all your money go?
Where does all my money go? |
Track 5: We Train
We train young men
And we train young women
We train them to be smart
We train them to be tough
We train them to be very brave
We train them to be very very fit
We dress them up in costumes
We call those uniforms
And than we equip them with most sofisticated kit
And it costs
Best training
Best airplanes
Best ships and boats
All kinds of land transport
Best weapons and ammunition
Best medical care
Best artificial limbs
Best wheelchairs
Best coffins
And it costs
But fortunately you pay for it all!
We train young men
And we train young women
We train them to be smart
We train them to be tough
We train them to be very brave
We train them to be very very fit
And than we send And than we send them
To kill some people you don't even know
|
Track 6: Sargeant Zero
Sargeant Zero was a big hero
For he killed so many innocent men
When his bodyparts came home
They were not alone
There was a medal pinned on every one of them
His mama was proud of her little lout
Who used to push drugs pick fights and steal cars
Till judge said “Son
Looking at all you've done
It's the army
Or stretch behind the bars.”
Army was good news
They showed him how to use
Many ways and means and tools to destroy
Zero beamed with joy
Each one was a toy
He dreamt of having since he was a boy
Now he knew the drill
He could shoot and kill
Once he was around the fighting zone
No need to know the name
Everyone's fair game
If they don't wear a costume like his own
It was not always hot
When his friend were shot
Or seeing limbless torsos wail
But he thought what the hell
They pay and feed me well
And beats life on the street or jail
It was over in a flash
He did not hear a crash
When friendly missile painted landscape red
His mom just shook her head
When fancy costume said:
“Sorry ma'am, your hero son is dead”
|
Track 7: Padre Speaks
this is your chaplain speaking,
bringing you the wisdom from above
I love you all in your beautiful costumes,
spreading so much of your peace and love.
Some of you have asked the question,
does not holy book say do not kill?
So I shall reveal to you now,
how your mission will fulfill god's will.
it is undeniable for ordinary common humans
killing truelly is a mortal sin
But in your case all such consideration
is overriden by our need to win.
your uniform is a most magical costume,
absolving you from ordinary rules
once you put it on, you are free
to maim and kill,
using all your magnificent tools.
Anyone not wearing your costume,
is an ugly enemy and fool,
And has to be disposed off
in any way possible
that is your rule.
killing is a casualty, not murder,
your costume even transforms your language,
your friends death is a friendly fire,
dead civilians - collateral damage.
So go forth and spread piece by destruction,
taxpayer works hard to bring you here
destroy all badies in wrong costumes,
you'll come home to heroes welcome
have no fear!
We go forth and spread piece by destruction,
taxpayer works hard to bring us here
let us destroy all badies in wrong costumes,
we'll come home as heroes , no fear!
now let us pray:
Oh Lord you are in high command
we use our skills as you demand
we shall endeavour to do your will
and shall go forth to kill kill kill
Give us today our ammunition
to bad costumes we'll bring attrition
Deliver us from hesitation
victory to our glorious nation
amen.
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Track
8: With Our Killing Costume On
with our killing costume on
we can't go wrong we can't go wrong.
we can murder rape and pillage
in any town and willage
if we don't like your shirt
you are as good as a piece of dirt
wearing wrong kind of pants
we'll feed your body to the ants
you wear a wrong kind of hat
we'll shoot you dead you dirty rat
you don't wear our kind of jacket
it shows you can't hack it
Oh what fun what fun what fun
holding a loaded gun.
In the rain or blazing sun
we are
masters of everyone
we just wave it and mothers weep
grown men grovel at our feet.
with our finger on the trigger
we are so much bigger
Oh what fun what fun what fun
holding a loaded gun.
In the rain or blazing sun
we are masters of everyone
we don't need no education
we are here to serve our nation
forget about erudition
give us some more ammunition.
with our killing costume on
we can't go wrong we can't go wrong.
we can murder rape and pillage
in any town and willage
Wth our killing costume on
|
Track
9: Interrogators
On behalf of the Nation
we carry on with investigation
to gain vital information
we use special kind of interrogation.
It's a tough job, but we love it
However sick the method, we are not above it
we love to use most extraordinary pain
on civvy street we'd be considered criminally insane.
Without pain there is no gain
and though some liberals might complain
their taxes pay us just the same
we do our job we are not to blame
It's a tough job, but we love it
However sick the method, we are not above it
we love to use most extraordinary pain
on civvy street we'd be considered criminally insane.
And this is the beauty:
taxpayer tells us to do our duty
and lest the information comes out late
we mutilate,mutilate, mutilate.
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Track 10: Bus Conductor
week ago he was a bus conductor
his neighbour used to drive a tractor
they kicked a ball for local soccer team
they filled them full of gloom and doom
stuck them in khaki costume
frontline targets for Zero's men
now his teammate's corpse has no leg
his son's face is a broken egg
gargling blood in a hole right through his throat
my tax money helped to make him armless
Paying it seemed so harmless
I'm a sucker taken for a ride.
cannons war planes bombs and rockets
take money straight out of our pockets
to kill and destroy somewhere far away
did they ask you if it's all right
to use your money to kill that child
or burn that family alive
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