Biography:
Philip David Ochs (pronounced o?ks/) (December 19, 1940 – April 9, 1976) was an American protest singer (or, as he preferred, a topical singer) and songwriter who was known for his sharp wit, sardonic humor, earnest humanism, political activism, insightful and alliterative lyrics, and haunting voice. He wrote hundreds of songs in the 1960s and released eight albums in his lifetime.
Ochs performed at many political events, including anti-Vietnam War and civil rights rallies
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Other songs:
- A Toast To Those Who Are Gone
- A Year To Go By
- Another Age
- Another Country
- Automation Song
- Ballad Of Oxford
- Ballad Of William Worthy
- Bound For Glory
- Bracero
- Celia
- Changes
- Chords Of Fame
- Cops Of The World
- Cross My Heart
- Crucifixion
- Davey Moore
- Days Of Decision
- Doesnt Lenny Live Here Anymore
- Draft Dodger Rag
- Flower Lady
- Going Down To Mississippi
- Half A Century High
- Hands
- Heres To The State Of Mississippi
- Heres To The State Of Richard Nixon
- I Aint Marching Anymore
- I Shoulda Known Better
- Im Going To Say It Now
- Im Gonna Say It Now
- Im Tired
- In The Heat Of The Summer
- Is There Anybody Here
- Joe Hill
- Knock On The Door
- Links On The Chain
- Love Me Im A Liberal
- Maintaining Law And Order
- No More Songs
- One Way Ticket Home
- Outside Of A Small Circle Of Friends
- Passing Of My Life
- Pleasures Of The Harbor
- Power And The Glory
- Pretty Smart On My Part
- Rehersal For Retirement
- Remember Me
- Ringing Of Revolution
- Scorpion Departs But Never Returns
- Small Circle
- Song Of A Soldier
- Spaceman
- Spanish Civil War Song
- Street Soldier
- Ten Cents A Coup
- Thats The Way Its Gonna Be
- Thats What I Want To Hear
- The Bells
- The Cannons Of Christianity
- The Confession
- The Doll House
- The Highwayman
- The Passing Of My Life
- The Thresher
- The Trial
- The War Is Over
- There But For Fortune
- This Old World Is Changing Hands
- Too Many Martyrs
- Watch The Waterfall
- What Are You Fighting For
- Whats That I Hear
- When Im Gone
- When In Rome
- Where Were You In Chicago
- White Boots Marching In A Yellow Land
- William Butler Yeats Visits Lincoln Park And Escapes Unscathed
Four years of hard work!This month of May we celebrated four years on the air. We continue working on the dissemination of this wonderful instrument, thank you for participating in our story!
D Bm A
Here's to the state of Mississippi,
D C
for underneath her borders, the devil draws no lines.
D C
If you drag her muddy rivers, nameless bodies you will find.
D C
whoa, the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes,
D Bm Em A
the calender is lyin' when it reads the present time.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the people of Mississippi,
D C
who say the folks up north, they just don't understand.
D C
And they tremble in their shadows at the thunder of the Klan,
D C
the sweating of their souls can't wash the blood from off their hands,
D Bm Em A
they smile and shrug their shoulders at the murder of a man.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the schools of Mississippi,
D C
where they're teaching all the children that they don't have to care,
D C
all the rudiments of hatred are present everywhere,
D C
and every single classroom is a factory of despair,
D Bm Em A
and there's nobody learning such a foreign word as “fair”.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the cops of Mississippi,
D C
they're chewing their tobacco as they lock the prison door,
D C
their bellies bounce inside them when they knock you to the floor,
D C
no, they don't like taking prisoners in their private little war,
D Bm Em A
and behind their broken badges there are murderers and more.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And, here's to the judges of Mississippi,
D C
who wear the robe of honor as they crawl into the court,
D C
they're guarding all the bastions of their phony legal fort,
D C
oh, justice is a stranger when the prisoners report,
D Bm Em A
when the black man stands accused the trial is always short.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the government of Mississippi,
D C
in the swamp of their bureaucracy they're always bogging down,
D C
and criminals are posing as the mayors of the towns,
D
and they hope that no one sees the sights,
C
and no one hears the sounds,
D Bm Em A
and the speeches of the governor are the ravings of a clown.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the laws of Mississippi,
D C
Congressmen will gather in a circus of delay,
D C
while the Constitution’s drowning in an ocean of decay,
D C
unwed mothers should be sterilized, I've even heard them say,
D Bm Em A
yes, corruption can be classic in the Mississippi way.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the churches of Mississippi,
D C
where the cross, once made of silver, now is caked with rust,
D C
and the Sunday morning sermons pander to their lust,
D C
the fallen face of Jesus is choking in the dust,
D Bm Em A
and heaven only knows in which God they can trust.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
(capo 4th) (Phil Ochs)
Here's to the state of Mississippi,
D C
for underneath her borders, the devil draws no lines.
D C
If you drag her muddy rivers, nameless bodies you will find.
D C
whoa, the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes,
D Bm Em A
the calender is lyin' when it reads the present time.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the people of Mississippi,
D C
who say the folks up north, they just don't understand.
D C
And they tremble in their shadows at the thunder of the Klan,
D C
the sweating of their souls can't wash the blood from off their hands,
D Bm Em A
they smile and shrug their shoulders at the murder of a man.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the schools of Mississippi,
D C
where they're teaching all the children that they don't have to care,
D C
all the rudiments of hatred are present everywhere,
D C
and every single classroom is a factory of despair,
D Bm Em A
and there's nobody learning such a foreign word as “fair”.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the cops of Mississippi,
D C
they're chewing their tobacco as they lock the prison door,
D C
their bellies bounce inside them when they knock you to the floor,
D C
no, they don't like taking prisoners in their private little war,
D Bm Em A
and behind their broken badges there are murderers and more.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And, here's to the judges of Mississippi,
D C
who wear the robe of honor as they crawl into the court,
D C
they're guarding all the bastions of their phony legal fort,
D C
oh, justice is a stranger when the prisoners report,
D Bm Em A
when the black man stands accused the trial is always short.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the government of Mississippi,
D C
in the swamp of their bureaucracy they're always bogging down,
D C
and criminals are posing as the mayors of the towns,
D
and they hope that no one sees the sights,
C
and no one hears the sounds,
D Bm Em A
and the speeches of the governor are the ravings of a clown.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the laws of Mississippi,
D C
Congressmen will gather in a circus of delay,
D C
while the Constitution’s drowning in an ocean of decay,
D C
unwed mothers should be sterilized, I've even heard them say,
D Bm Em A
yes, corruption can be classic in the Mississippi way.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
D Bm A
And here's to the churches of Mississippi,
D C
where the cross, once made of silver, now is caked with rust,
D C
and the Sunday morning sermons pander to their lust,
D C
the fallen face of Jesus is choking in the dust,
D Bm Em A
and heaven only knows in which God they can trust.
D Bm G D
Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Bm A D
Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of!
(capo 4th) (Phil Ochs)
Phil Stacey
Phil Taylor
Phil Thompson
Phil Vassar
Philadelphia Gra (...)