Stay Informed
  • Enter your city and/or state to stay informed regarding performances in your area.

Valdez

Headlines hit the papers, and everybody heard –
black water floatin’ full of dead fish and sea birds.
Oil spill spreadin’ up the north Pacific coast,
attackin’ Mother Nature in the land you love the most.
Cuttin’ corners, pushin’ profits to the high limit line.
Too few people workin’ too much overtime.
Too many bad moves pushin’ to the brink.
Is it any wonder that the captain took a drink?

Is this the price of our glory?  Cost of our fame?
Is this the end of our story?  It’s a crying, dying shame.

Power is the hunger, yes, and money is the feed.
Oil is what they make it with, though some just call it greed.
Empire logic throwing very loaded dice.
They come up with a loser and we all pay the price.
They said it wouldn’t happen and they lied in your face,
and they covered up their excess to keep it in its place.
Lining influential pockets of the politic machine,
suckin’ up their fortunes from a can of gasoline.

Is this the price of our glory?  Cost of our fame?
Is this the end of our story?  It’s a crying, dying shame.

You shoulda seen ’em hustle with the propaganda crews.
Apologetic postures on the six o’clock news.
The high cost of cleanup is a capital sacrifice,
but they’ll get all that and more back when they raise the gas pump price.
Let the captain be the scapegoat, set him up to fall.
Gather up the blame and let him shoulder it all.
So while every eye is focused on this solitary man,
the real culprits will slip right through your hands.

Is this the price of our glory?  Cost of our fame?
Is this the end of our story?  It’s a crying, dying shame.

Think about the muscle of the money in their fist –
this great corporate bully pugilist.
To get away with anything that dollars will decree,
to waste the natural wonder for the sake of their economy.
Well, something has to happen and it has to happen soon
before this good green earth looks like the surface of the moon.
Let’s put our heads together, let’s see what can be done.
Let’s repossess our future while we still have one.

Is this the price of our glory?  Cost of our fame?
Is this the end of our story?  It’s a crying, dying shame.