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Ian Brown - Festival Anthems - Illegal Attacks
Festival Anthems
Disc 1
01. Thnks fr th Mmrs
02. White Noise
03. It’s a War
04. Black and Gold
05. Tranquilize
06. Are You With Me
07. Embrace
08. Lights and Music
09. Paris Is Burning
10. Ice Cream
11. Bird of Feather
12. How You Remind Me
13. Feel Good Hit of the Summer
14. Face Without a Name
15. Underclass Hero
16. The Best Thing
17. Innerspace
18. Living for the Weekend
19. I Am the Resurrection
20. Starz in Their Eyes
21. Nightswimming
Disc 2
01. Joker and the Thief
02. Straight Lines
03. Love’s Not a Competition
04. Gold Lion
05. Believe
06. Scar
07. Whistle for the Choir
08. Pumpkin Soup
09. Better Than
10. Just for Tonight
11. Hold On
12. Is It Any Wonder?
13. Illegal Attacks
14. Either Way
15. Rocks
16. Fit but You Know It
17. Get Over It
18. Sit Down
19. Friday I’m in Love
20. Common People
So what the fuck is this UK
Gunnin' with this US of A
In Iraq and Iran and in Afghanistan

Does not a day go by
Without the Israeli Air Force
Fail to drop it's bombs from the sky?

How many mothers to cry?
How many sons have to die?
How many missions left to fly over Palestine?
'Cause as a matter of facts
It's a pact, it's an act
These are illegal attacks
So bring the soldiers back
These are illegal attacks
It's contracts for contacts
I'm singing concrete facts
So bring the soldiers back

What mean ya that you beat my people
What mean ya that you beat my people
And grind the faces of the poor

So tell me just how come were the Taliban
Sat burning incense in Texas
Roaming round in a Lexus
Sittin' on six billion oil drums
Down with the Dow Jones, up on the Nasdaq
Pushed into the war zones

It's a commercial crusade
'Cause all the oil men get paid
And only so many soldiers come home
It's a commando crusade
A military charade
And only so many soldiers come home

What mean ya that you beat my people
What mean ya that you beat my people
And grind the faces of the poor

Soldiers, soldiers come home
Soldiers come home

Through all the blood and sweat
Nobody can forget
It ain't the size of the dog in the fight
It's the size of the fight in the dog on the day or the night
There's no time to reflect
On the threat, the situation, the bark nor the bite
These are commercial crusades
'Cause all the oil men get paid
These are commando crusades
Commando tactical rape
And from the streets of New York and Baghdad to Tehran and Tel Aviv
Bring forth the prophets of the Lord
From dirty bastards fillin' pockets
With the profits of greed

These are commercial crusades
Commando tactical raids
Playin' military charades to get paid

And who got the devils?
And who got the Lords?
Build yourself a mountain – Drink up in the fountain
Soldiers come home
Soldiers come home
Soldiers come home
Soldiers come home

What mean ya that you beat my people
What mean ya that you beat my people
And grind the faces of the poor

What mean ya that you beat my people
What mean ya that you beat my people
And grind the faces of the poor