The Gone Jackals - Legacy and Born Bad at Club Lingerie, Hollywood, California 1991 descargar videos gratis

"Is this the legacy of too much for too few that I see?"

Wrote this number during Bush I, was concerned with the ever widening, rapidly expanding income gap and the striking increase in homelessness. Began noticing this when my mother taught me how to open a can of Spaghetti-O's, turn on the stove and handed me the keys to the house when I was ten years old. We couldn't make it on my father's salary anymore, so she had to go to work - and I had to learn to fend for myself. Those were the "good old days", far worse today.

"Born Bad -- I dodge a sucker punch, drop a bomb like Liston, on an animal hunch".

This one can summed up simply: Everything you go through makes you who you are.

Full lyrics below.

K.K.

Legacy (K. Karloff)

December '61.

my Dad's wages light.

Still on that salary

we, all four, could sleep tight.

Right now if you drank from

that very same well,

you'd need a run of luck

to score a bed in a trick hotel.

Is this the legacy of

too much for too few

that I see?

The kind of legacy that's

tossin' some good men

to their knees.

The "Great Society's"

maligned concrete cage

sits dead and vacant now -

at least it kept out rain.

With all those corners cut

the cracks grow wide and near.

I heard some cash was saved

but where it's gone ain't clear..

Who goes down next I don't know.

I don't know nothin'

anymore.

Tomorrow's legacy that's

layin' in state

awaits reprieve.

I always thought that when a man goes down

you do your best to pick him up.

But how can the milk of kindness trickle down

when it's syphoned off and cheats the cup?

Keith Karloff

© Leather Volcano Music BMI

Born Bad (K. Karloff)

That's the way it begins -

you try to behave,

yeah, you try to fit in.

But when you rise and stand

you find a lock-step march -

no room for jazz.

Born bad-

with a slight-o-hand

I go from jam to jam

with a crash, boom, bam.

Born bad -

I dodge a sucker punch

and drop a bomb, like Liston,

on an animal hunch.

I've been down.

Yeah, I've spent some time downtown.

I've covered sacred ground,

soft and slow and round.

I gave up.

Yeah, I learned to give it up,

thinkin' that's the final cut.

But it turns out I was wrong.

Born bad -

that's the way it began,

stuffed a young pink lung

down a rank glue bag.

Born bad -

this is where it all lands

for a bull headed, corner hangin'

problem child man.

I grew hard.

Over time my scars toughed up.

When gettin' even just wasn't enough,

I had to choke my conscience off.

I've come far.

Yeah, I had to travel far.

Peel through layers sick and raw

just to taste and touch once more.

Born bad -

like a synchro-mesh shift

that's stuck in third

just smokes and burns.

Born bad -

with a cig-hangin' lip.

A talk-back baby on a

star-crossed ship.

Keith Karloff

© Leather Volcano Music BMI

Musicians:

Keith Karloff - Vocals and Guitars

Judd Austin - Guitar and Vocals

Rudy Maynard - Fender Bass

Trey Sabatelli - Drums and Vocals