Category: Wilder Music

Sunday 2A: Seconds Count

It’s a meme, but it’s true.  When seconds count, the cops are minutes away.  If you say this to a cop, it tends to irritate them.  Along with calling them “second responders”.  But those are both true statements.


Behind The Music:
All the songs so far are here (LINK).  You can pre-purchase all the rock songs now wherever you buy music electronically – do a search for Wilder’s Hammer.  I’ll get the country songs up when I have a few hours of free time.

Seconds Count
By John Wilder

Out in the backwoods, where the shadows grow long
A man’s gotta stand on his own feet, gotta be strong
Can’t wait on the badge when the wolf’s at the door
They’ll show up too late, leavin’ blood on the floor

They talk big on duty, but when push comes to shove
Uvalde’s kids waited, no heroes from above
Bondi Beach bleedin’, cops hid from the fray
Won’t risk their own skin on a bad, bloody day

When seconds count, cops are minutes away
You’re on your own, brother, come what may
Don’t give up your guns, that’s the road to the cage
Jailed for your thoughts by a tyrant’s rage

When seconds count, stand tall and true
Your life’s blood is all up to you
Arm up strong, keep the wolves at bay
When seconds count,

the cops are minutes away

The lawman’s a myth when the danger is real
They write up the report after thugs seal the deal
The boys in blue, waitin’ safe in their ride
While innocents fall, no place left to hide

They promise protection, but it’s all just hot air
Uvalde’s shame lingers, Bondi Beach despair
Won’t charge into help, just watch from afar
Seein’ it all happen from their squad car

When seconds count, cops are minutes away
You’re on your own, brother, come what may
Don’t give up your guns, that’s the road to the cage
Jailed for your thoughts by a tyrant’s rage

When seconds count, stand tall and true
Your life’s blood is all up to you
Arm up strong, keep the wolves at bay
When seconds count,

the police are minutes away

So load up your chamber, keep your powder dry
Ain’t no one comin’ when you hear that cry
Tyrants love weakness, they thrive on the meek
But armed and ready, we hold what we see

When seconds count, cops are minutes away
Fight for your own, don’t kneel or sway
Gun rights are freedom, don’t let ’em slip
Or end up in irons for words from your lip

When seconds count, rise up and say
Fightin’ for yourself wins the day
Arm up strong, let the police play
When seconds count,

the cops are minutes away

Minutes away
Yeah, minutes away
Stand your ground
Come what may

Neighbor of the Beast, Saturday Song

This started out as a phrase my friend mentioned to me sometime back in the 1980s.  I checked last night, and there have been many songs named Neighbor of the Beast, but none of them are like this one.  This also explains why when I moved to my current house my first question was, “Do they have an H.O.A.?”

Note:  that’s not a picture of me, it’s an A.I. image.
Enjoy!

Behind The Music:
All the songs so far are here (LINK).  You can pre-purchase all the rock songs now wherever you buy music electronically – do a search for Wilder’s Hammer.  I’ll get the country songs up when I have a few hours of free time.

The Neighbor of the Beast
By John Wilder, with apologies to Iron Maiden

Woe to you, of suburb and subdivision
For Wilder purchased in my neighborhood
Because he knows the schools are good
Let us understand the address of the neighbor of the beast
For it is my address
Its number is six hundred and sixty-eight

I lived alone, worked at a bank
I needed time to drink
To get my workday from my mind
What did I see? Can I believe?
That who moved in that night was not just fantasy?

Just what I saw, move in next door
Were the reflections of an unmowed lawn staring back at me
‘Cause in my dreams it’s always there
The evil lawn that twists my mind and brings me to despair

Night was black, his stereo not holding back
‘Cause I just had to hear every single note
In the dark, he played Mojo Nixon and heavy metal
Was all this for real or just some kind of Hell?

Six, six, eight, the neighbor of the beast
Music, unmowed lawn spawned to be released

Torches blazed and loud music was played
As they start to sing, hands held to the sky
In the night, his bonfire is burning bright
His party has begun, Wilder’s work is done

Six, six, eight, the neighbor of the beast
H.O.A. Violations are going on tonight

This can’t go on, I must inform the H.O.A.
Can this still be real, or just some crazy dream?
But I can’t sleep because of the chanting hordes
Seem to mesmerize, are they eating fries?

Six, six, eight, the neighbor of the beast
Six, six, eight, the house just for me

I’m coming back, I will return
And I’ll bring the H.O.A. and the fine will burn
I have the email, you’ll get H.O.A. fines
I have the power to make him follow guidelines

 

 

The Hammer

Charles Martel was a pivotal person in the history of the West, so I think he deserves a song.  Here it is.

Behind The Music:
All the songs so far are here (LINK).  Also, I’ve changed the cover art on all the songs that are italicized to match the final band name for rock:  Wilder’s Hammer.

All eight of the rock songs will be released pretty much wherever you can buy or stream music next Wednesday, and you can pre-order them now.  It’s weird going to Amazon and seeing your song there, especially when it was late and you left a typo in the title.  Well, here’s hoping they change that since I put the edit in.  Otherwise, it’ll be known forever as Deveiver.  All rock songs uploaded so far are under the band name, “Wilder’s Hammer” if you want to do a search for them.

I’ll get to work on the country songs next.  Having to go back and redo all of the cover artwork for the new names, scale to the requirements of the services (3000 x 3000 pixels, for instance) takes a few hours.  Going forward, each song by Wilder’s Hammer or Wilder’s Brigade (the country band) will be available no later than one week after it hits the blog.  The Wildertone or Christmastone stuff will just be here unless there’s a demand.

The Hammer
By John Wilder

In the year of seven thirty-two, under Frankish skies
A storm from the south, scimitars and battle cries
Moslem hordes sweep the land, conquest is their plan
Abd al-Rahman’s army marches, fueled by foul Islam

From the Pyrenees they pour, like a Muslim flood untamed
Seeking to devour the West, Allah’s name proclaimed
But a fierce warrior rises, Charles the bold
Martel means the Hammer, forged in iron cold

No crown on his head, but he holds stern command
He rallies the Franks to make their final stand
Sheild walls now, too soon for knights in shining mail
Just axes and shields, against the invader hail

Hammer of Tours, strike the blow!
Charles Martel, let the thunder flow!
Turn the tide where the rivers meet
Save the cross from the crescent’s heat

Hammer of Tours, eternal fame
The West endures in your name
One man’s might halts endless wave
Saves Europe’s soul from the grave

Near French fields, the clash ignites the day
Rahman’s riders charge, in a deadly array
But Martel’s phalanx holds like a mountain unbowed
Hammer strikes fall, the invaders are plowed

Loot wagons tempt, the Muslims turn to flee
Disarray and slaughter, victory’s decree
The Hammer descends, crushing the foe’s advance
Halting the jihad at the gates of France
At the gates of France
At the gates of France
At the gates of France

His legacy forged in that bloody fray
The father of kings, lighting the way
No hammer of gold, but of flesh and will
The evil spell broken, the West standing still

Hammer of Tours, strikes the blow
Charles Martel, let the thunder flow
Turn the tide where the rivers meet
Save the cross from the crescent’s heat

Hammer of Tours, eternal fame
The West endures in your name
One man’s might halts endless wave
Saves Europe’s soul from the grave

From the ashes of Rome, a new era awakes
The Hammer’s echo through history shakes
Without his stand, the light might have died
Dark ages deeper, no place to hide

His name the Hammer, Martel the force
Striking down evil, altering course

Hammer of Tours, your legend is alive
Charles Martel, in glory you thrive
The final clash where fate was sealed
Western world on your anvil healed

Hammer of Tours, forever ring
The savior’s strike, let the anthems sing
From that bloody field, the future’s born
The Hammer prevails, through storm and scorn

Martel
the Hammer
Martel
the Hammer
Martel
the Hammer

The hammer strikes . . .
And saves us all

Rivers Run Red – Tuesday Tune

Back with another philosophical rock song on a Tuesday.  Who could have expected that?  This one was another high-effort, went through multiple iterations, some that were soooooo close, but just didn’t make the cut.  The nice thing about doing it this way is that I can see how changes to the meter play out as I change the lyrics – sometimes things that work on paper don’t work out when they’re sung.  Regardless, I like how this came out.

Behind The Music:
All the songs so far are here (LINK).  Working still on the downloadable stuff but have made a lot of progress.  I think I’ll need two band names, one for rock and one for country.  John Wilder and the Lost Brigade works for either, but I’ll probably save that for rock.  Wilder and the Ghost Riders for country?

Rivers Run Red
By John Wilder

From sea to sea, they tried to fade us away
Strangers breach the gates, no ties to yesterday
They cross the borders, in endless waves they come
Replacing kith and kin, under the setting sun

America’s voices grow fainter, drowned by the foreign tide
Natives turn to ghosts in the land they built with pride
Now no shared roots, just numbers in a game
The foundation cracks, nothing stays the same

The storm is brewing deep,
The shadows start to creep
A nation’s soul asleep
A bloody harvest we will reap

Rivers run red in the land of the free
Replacement’s shadow, can you see
Millions pour in, no bond, insane
Leading to ruin, endless pain

Rivers run red, the warning’s now
Native sons refresh the vow
Dark times ahead, the clash will come
At the brink of our world being overrun

Cities once our own now echo alien calls
Our youth now displaced, behind false walls
No loyalty to soil, no love for what was built
The enemy, takers in the fold, sowing seeds of guilt

The future darkens fast, division carves the ground
As evil tries to take the free and make us bound
Innocents will pay when tensions finally break
The peaceful day decays for freedom’s sake

The flames are kindling high,
The end draws ever nigh
A people’s silent cry,
Beneath the blood-red sky

Rivers run red in the land of the free
Replacement’s shadow, can you see
Millions pour in, no bond, insane
Leading to ruin, endless pain

Rivers run red, the warning’s now
Native sons refresh the vow
Dark times ahead, the clash will come
At the brink of our world being overrun

We built this land tall,
On sweat and iron will
Now watch it start to fall,
A void outsiders cannot fill

The clash of worlds unfolds, the end drawing near
A nation’s story sold, in rivers flowing fear
But the darkest signs lead to the turning of the tide
Where the native sons rise up, reclaim their rightful stride

Rivers run red, but the dawn breaks through
Replacement’s end, the fight renews
Native hearts awaken, lessons learned
In the storm’s eye, invasion overturned

Rivers run red, but victory is near
Sons and daughters conquer fear
The clash ignites, our world stands
Triumph rises from these lands

The tide turns now
The darkest hour’s light
Our strength prevails
Eternal fight

There Ain’t No Voting Our Way Out of This, Your Sunday Song.

The latest.  I can’t find an exact etymology of this phrase – it appears to be from around 2013, but, who knows?  Regardless, this is what happens when you have phrase and make a song.

Enjoy!

Behind the Music:
We’re getting pretty close to having the songs out into the world for purchase and streaming.  Accounts are being set up, et cetera. I need to generate the final cuts, and generate the final artwork and upload.  Until then, you can listen to them all here at this link.  Note that songs with an asterisk won’t be available on streaming.

There Ain’t No Voting Our Way Out of This
By John Wilder

Sittin’ on the porch with a rifle ‘cross my knee
Hearin’ the news spin lies like tumbleweeds
They tax us blind, send jobs across the sea
While the fat cats laugh in their ivory seats

We’ve hollered loud, we’ve marked our ballot true
But the game’s rigged tight, no red or blue
Ignore our children, the farmer and the mill
Bendin’ for billionaires on Capitol Hill

There ain’t no votin’ our way out of this
Ballot box broken, sealed with a Judas kiss
Washington’s forgotten the fire of ’76
Played into big money’s hands, now we’re in a fix

The spirit’s stirrin’, powder keg is lit
There ain’t no votin’ our way out of this

From sea to shinin’ sea, our voice is drowned
By lobby dollars, backroom deals downtown
They forgot the people who rose with pitchforks high
Men who fired the shot heard ’round the world that night

We tried the peaceful path, we marched and we prayed
But the chains get tighter every single day
Time to dust off the muskets, remember Lexington
The tree of liberty needs refreshin’, son

There ain’t no votin’ our way out of this
Ballot box broken, sealed with a Judas kiss
Washington’s forgotten the fire of ’76
Played into big money’s hands, now we’re in a fix
But the spirit’s stirrin’, powder keg is lit
There ain’t no votin’ our way out of this

We’ll stand like Washington at the Delaware’s edge
Cross that river again, make our solemn pledge
No more kneelin’ to kings in suits so fine
This land is ours, by God, it’s nearly time

There ain’t no votin’ our way out of this
But we’ll rise like eagles, clench our fist
Washington’s forgotten, but we remember well
The shot heard ’round the world ringin’ clear as hell
Revolution’s callin’ if you listen to what they say
There ain’t no votin’ our way out, we’ll have a new Independence Day

1776 . . . you can see it on the horizon

Paperwork American: Saturday Song

This one is for Vivek.

Behind the Music:
We’re getting pretty close to having the songs out into the world for purchase and streaming.  Accounts are being set up, et cetera. I need to generate the final cuts, and generate the final artwork and upload.  Until then, you can listen to them all here at this link.  Note that songs with an asterisk won’t be available on streaming.

Paperwork American
By John Wilder (with apologies to The Beatles)

Paperwork American
Paperwork American

Dear Harley Davidson, will you sponsor an H 1-B
I’m from Mumbai wonderful India, you see
I know that the needful you will do
Because I worship a monkey god that is blue

Paperwork American

My application says I know I.T.
But I bribed an Indian University for a degree
I don’t know a thing about tech that will last
But I want to get a job and hire my own caste

Paperwork American
Paperwork American
Paperwork American

I’ve got a thousand relatives, give or take a few
They’ll be making more in a week or two
I can grovel to you if you like the style
And hate you behind your back all the while

Paperwork American

If you really like me get me a green card
And we’ll immigrate a million into your backyard
If you must return us, please not back to India
Because I need a break and I want to be a paperwork American

Paperwork American
Paperwork American
Paperwork American
Paperwork American
Paperwork American
Paperwork American
Paperwork American

Merry Christmas: Holy Birth Thunder

I described my plan for this song to Pugsley:

JW:  “I want to make a badass metal Christmas song.”

Pugsley:  “I think you’re missing the meaning of Christmas.”

I then made him listen to it, and said, “I like it!”

No, third graders won’t be singing this at the Christmas program anytime soon, and I imagine Silent Night is safe (for now).  But I got what I wanted out of this song – a badass metal song that is reverential about Christmas.

I was going to post it tomorrow, but, what the heck.  Enjoy!

Behind The Music:
All the songs so far are here (LINK).  Still working on the downloadable stuff.

Holy Birth Thunder
By John Wilder

In the shadows of Judea, under heaven’s watchful eye
A virgin pure conceives the Word, defying mortal lie
Prophets’ words ignite the night, the ancient scrolls unfold
The Messiah comes tonight, to shatter chains of old

Shepherds quake on hills of stone, angels blaze the sky
“Glory to the newborn King!” their cry splits the high

No silent night, but a thunder divine
Sin’s empire crumbles, the holy sign
From Bethlehem’s manger, the King is born
Redemption’s hammer, the veil is torn

Holy birth’s light shakes man’s throne
Son of God descends, flesh and bone
Crush the serpent, break the curse
Salvation’s fire, the universe

Holy birth’s promise, eternal might!
He pierces darkness, endless light!
For mankind’s soul, the King arrives
In glory’s blaze, the faithful thrive

Wise men ride from eastern storms, guided by the star
Bearing gold and myrrh and frankincense, from lands afar
Herod’s rage, a tyrant’s fear, seeks the Infant’s blood
But divine decree protects the child, in the holy flood

No room in inns for Heaven’s Heir, in a stable low
Yet from humility, empires He’ll overthrow

No tranquil scene, but a cosmic war
The Word made flesh, forevermore
Against the void, the Savior stands
Eternal victory in His hands

Holy birth’s thunder shakes man’s throne
Son of God descends, flesh and bone
Crush the serpent, break the curse
Salvation’s fire, the universe

Holy birth’s thunder, eternal might!
He pierces darkness, endless light
For mankind’s soul, the King arrives
In glory’s blaze, the faithful thrive

The cross awaits, but here it starts
The Lamb of God mends broken hearts
Not seasonal cheer, but sacred flame
In Jesus’ name, we’ll win the game

Holy birth’s light cracks the sky
Emmanuel, the battle cry
Defeat the grave, redeem the lost
He’ll pay the cost, He’ll pay the cost

Holy birth’s thunder, divine decree
From manger to throne, set us free
The holy fate, The King’s roar,
Christ is born – forevermore

Gloria . . . gloria . . . in excelsis Deo
Gloria . . . gloria . . . in excelsis Deo
Gloria . . . gloria . . . in excelsis Deo
Gloria . . . gloria . . . in excelsis Deo

 

Die Ho Ho Ho: A Christmas Carol

A bit of something lighthearted for Christmas.  I’ll have another Christmas song for Christmas day.

Behind The Music:
All the songs so far are here (LINK).  Still working on the downloadable stuff.

Die Ho Ho Ho
by John Wilder

Deck the halls with boughs of Holly Genaro
Fa la la la la, la la la la
John McClane needs more dinero
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Terrorists crash the festive cheer
Fa la la, la la la, la la la
Hans Gruber’s plan is crystal clear
Fa la la la la, la la la la

Yippee-ki-yay, Father Christmas night!
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Nakatomi’s tower, what a fight!
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Barefoot hero squirms the vents so tight
Fa la la, la la la, la la la
Saves the day with guts and dynamite
Fa la la la la, la la la la

‘Tis the season to be crawling
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Through the elevator, the bad guys falling
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Holly’s a hostage, Argyle’s drivin’
Fa la la, la la la, la la la
Powell’s on the radio, forgivin’
Fa la la la la, la la la la

Yippee-ki-yay, Father Christmas night!
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Machine guns blaze under twinkling lights!
Fa la la la la, la la la la
John drops Hans from the Nakatomi height
Fa la la, la la la, la la la
Ho ho ho, now I have a gun, right
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Now the snow falls on the wreckage below
Fa la la, la la la, la la la
Family reunited in the glow
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Evil thwarted on this holy eve
Fa la la, la la la, la la la
Die Hard Christmas, we believe!

Yippee-ki-yay, Mother Christmas all!
Fa la la la la, la la la la
From the party start to Hans Gruber’s fall!
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Peace on Earth, with an American yell
Fa la la, la la la, la la la

Nothing to do with Deer: Sunday Country Second Amendment

Sometimes it’s a chorus, sometimes it’s just a phrase that’s the start of a song.  This was the phrase that became the title.

Behind The Music:
All the songs so far are here (LINK).  Still working on the downloadable stuff.

Nothing to do with Deer
By John Wilder

In the heart of the city where man becomes prey
Weak and evil men want to take guns away
But listen up close, if you want to understand,
About the world that you’ll live in, if guns are banned

It’s not exactly a gun problem, hear me say,
It’s thugs with long records, gettin’ their way.

Judges lettin’ killers walk without a fight,
Bail ’em out quick, boy, ignorin’ what’s right
Gun-free zones? Just unarmed victim traps,
Where the criminals strike and the evil snap.

Let me make somethin’ perfectly clear,
The Second Amendment has nothin’ to do with deer.

Twisted judges let the mad ones roam,
Repeat offenders tearin’ up our home
It’s folks with dark pasts or minds in a twist,
Not men and women just trying to exist.

Your family’s at risk to judges without a spine,
But a gun in your hand keeps the danger in line.

Judges lettin’ killers walk without a fight,
Bail ’em out quick, boy, ignorin’ what’s right.
Gun-free zones? Just unarmed victim traps,
Where the bad guys strike and the evil snap.

I say again, Let me make somethin’ perfectly clear,
The Second Amendment has nothin’ to do with deer.

Look over to England, where a father’s head hangs,
His daughter’s innocence lost to grooming gangs
Evil men rise up when the people can’t fight,
But here we’re armed strong, holdin’ back that night.

Don’t let ’em fool you, your rights keep you free,
From shadows that creep, protecting you and me

So stand for your freedom, don’t back down,
They’ll find out, if they mess around,
When trouble comes knockin’ at your front door,
You’ll be ready to answer, even the score.

It’s ’bout protectin’ what’s yours in the fray,
Gun rights save innocent lives every day.

Judges lettin’ killers walk without a fight,
Bail ’em out quick, boy, ignorin’ what’s right.
Gun-free zones? Just helpless victim traps,
Where the bad guys strike and the evil snap.

If you missed, it, let me make somethin’ perfectly clear,
The Second Amendment has nothin’ to do with deer.

You know, the truth is, we ain’t got a gun problem . . .
And if you want to talk about common sense gun laws,
Let’s talk about common sense voter laws first

Somalisota: Saturday Song

Ahhh, Somalisota, filled with Scandinavian traditions like Medicaid fraud, childcare fraud, autism fraud, and immigration fraud.  How would that look to a Somalian who is getting the benefit of, perhaps, $8 billion in illegal benefits while recreating Mogadishu on the Mouth of the Mississippi?

Well, like paradise!

Aren’t you pleased that they’ve been able to live their dreams?

Behind The Music:
All the songs so far are here (LINK).  Still working on the downloadable stuff.

Down in Somalisota
by John Wilder
(apologies to the Beach Boys)

Autism,
Child care,
Ooh, we wanna scam ya
Jihad,
Sharia,
Ohh, we want to kill ya
Charity, Medicaid, baby, you’ve been played

Oooh-ohhh, it’s North of Iowa
There’s a place called Somalisota
That’s where you wanna go to

Steal it all

Way down in Somalisota

And bodies in the sand,
Infidel blood melting in your hand
We’ll be falling in love to the rhythm of a
Drive by shooting,

Down in Somalisota

Ilhan Omar, ooh,
Her brother wants to take her
For a green card,
Far away from the Coast Guard

Oh-ohhhh, it’s to the east of Dakota

Ooh, I wanna take you down to Somalisota
We’ll get there fast and then we’ll start a quota
We’ll definitely avoid the Lakota

Way down in Somalisota

Minneapolis, not at all Annapolis
We’ll cut down a tree and we’ll perfect bomb chemistry
By and by we’ll live on welfare and defy all the laws

Afternoon stealing, and moonlit double dealing
That dreamy look under your veil
As they give me a zero dollar bail

Way down in Somalisota

Autism,
child care,
Ooh, we wanna scam ya
Jihad,
Sharia,
Ohh, we want to kill ya
Charity, Medicaid, baby, ohh you’ve been played

Oooh-ohhh, north of Iowa
There’s a place called Somalisota
That’s where you wanna go

To steal it all

Way down in Somalisota

We’ll get there fast and then we’ll start a quota
We’ll definitely avoid the Lakota
Way down in Somalisota

Autism,
Child care,
Ooh, we wanna scam ya
Jihad,
Sharia,
Ohh, we want to kill ya
Charity, Medicaid, baby, ohh you’ve been played

Oooh-ohhh, north of Iowa
There’s a place called Somalisota
That’s where you wanna go

To steal it all

Way down in Somalisota

Autism,
Child care,
Ooh, we wanna scam ya
Jihad,
Sharia,
Ohh, we want to kill ya
Charity, Medicaid, baby, ohh you’ve been played

We’ll get there fast and then we’ll start a quota
We’ll definitely avoid the Lakota
Way down in Somalisota

Down in Somalisota . . . .