Born Into War

by Article 15

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released December 20, 2015

Bass: Boone. Drums: Lou. Guitar and vox: Jeff. Produced by Max Moulton at Gizmo Productions. Recorded November 2015 at the Upper Crust House in Taos, NM. Special thanks to Dano Sancho for artwork and Jack Mitchell for photography, and to all our friends in the Taos punk scene. May we always be small, dedicated, and outnumbered by crunchy hippies!

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Article 15 Taos, New Mexico

Article 15 is born from the thirsty earth of northern New Mexico. Using anarcho-punk as a means to an end, their music is a battle cry against hate-mongering fascists and a tool to help build a new world based on peace, justice, and an egalitarian autonomy of the planet and its inhabitants. ... more

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Track Name: Born Into War
When little Johnny was four years old the fires filled the sky.
Towers of power came crumbling down, four thousand bankers died.
Johnny lived his life indoctrinated by the lie:
Salute the flag and one day, son, you, too, can join the fight.

Life of madness.
Born into violence.
All when you were born.

A little boy in Afghanistan remembers that frightful night.
Fighters jets flew overhead with overwhelming might.
Bombs that rip to pieces, his family blown to bits.
Memories forged in blood and tears, his mother’s dying breath.

Life of madness.
Born into violence.
All when you were born, into the war.
Born into the war.
A bullet and gun and a falling bomb is all you’ve ever known.
Inheritance of blood and gore and you were born into the war.

Now Johnny’s marching through the poppy fields with a company of marines.
On a mission to destroy and kill insurgents on the scene.
A farmer passes down the road, suicide is on his mind.
Blood and bones explode now Johnny’s dead, revenge is satisfied.
Track Name: 7.62 mm
Lost in this dichotomy
Pawns in a game, guided by false
Ideology.
Enemies.
Gun in hand, stealing what’s left of our
humanity, can’t we see?
All the lies, psychopaths pulling on the
puppet strings, can it be?
The bullet’s wrath, eviscerate our humanity.

Blinded by the treachery, the tragedy
killing in the name of god and greed.
A disease.
The surgeon’s wrath, eviscerate…
I’m bleeding out, you’re bleeding back.
Final attack, fall into the black
never coming back.
Final act.
7.62, carry me home in a body bag.
Track Name: Eleven Minutes of Fame
I hear voices in my head and they say they want you dead they’re screaming on and on and on and they say they want you dead so now I’m loading up my gun because you know it might be fun doing what the voices said because they say they want you dead…

…society falls apart tearing at the seams it’s hungry broke and sick and chewed up in the war machine desperation seeping in what else is there to do your job it sucks marriage on the rocks your kids are eating poisoned food…

…capitalism captures us slaves to the excess get ahead by cutting throats the myth of our success demagogues with dollar signs preaching the ways of greed build a bank to hoard it all a fraternity of thieves…

…the media sucks you in propaganda on TV ruining the feminine anorexic beauty queens a spectacle of lies and now you’re dancing to their songs they say if you’re not rich by now you did something wrong…

I hear voices in my head and they say they want you dead they’re screaming on and on and on because they know this world is gone the static buzzing in my ears only magnifies the fear the only way to make it stop lock and load and kill you all…

…the shooter came and did his work dead children on the scene so many questions they never ask so they’re blaming everything video games and gangster rap and violence on TV too much sex no background checks and not enough police…

…as the empire of blood and greed begins to crumble all around the harbinger of death will burn your illusions to the ground a symptom of an ill he will react to the disease a cancer cell with a loaded gun will bring you to your knees…

I hear voices in my head.
Track Name: Oh, Guillotine
The exulted arrive at the ball.
In chariots of gold, on the wings of the gods.
Their radiance lights up the halls.
Diamonds and jewels, dressed in skins of the thralls.
Orchestras line up arranged.
To celebrate wealth and the song of the day.
Wagers of blood would astound.
Privileged the few, the rest worship the crown.

The party began then to play.
The beautiful people swaggered and swayed.
Indulged in the finest of ways.
Hors d'oeuvres and fine wines and fancy champagnes.
When entered a madame so fair.
Her flair and her charm it all lit up the air.
While outside the palace estates,
A terrible force soon begins to shake.

Isolated are the rich as disparity grows.
Debutantes in their decadence dance in their robes.
Twirling and spinning as the cup overflows.
They won’t even know when the knife’s at their throat.

Liberty.
Oh, guillotine.

They dance to an opulent tune.
They toasted and cheered to the health of the few.
A cadre of tyrant tycoons.
Some make the laws the rest simply consume, but as the
Party reached fanciful heights,
The ramshackle slums burned all through the night.
Starving and desperate for change.
Waves of plebeian rage crashes against the gates.

Isolated are the rich as disparity grows.
Debutantes in their decadence dance in their robes.
Twirling and spinning as the cup overflows.
They won’t even know when the masses revolt.

And the guards at the palace were killed right on sight.
And the jackboot police were ran away terrified.
And the armies of war marched to the fight,
But the people fought back with all of their might.

They stood with their fists held up to the sky
And the fires of rage ravaged the blight
And the beast that forever was kept in a cage
Broke from her chains and devoured her prey.

Liberty.
Oh, guillotine.