for those who came from nothing

Receptionist: Does he have Alzheimer's?

David Grant: No, he just believes what people tell him.

 Have you ever seen us steal machinery before?

 I never know what you boys are up to.

 Why didn't you say it wasn't yours?

 I thought you wanted it

 I never knew the son of a bitch even wanted to be a millionaire! He should have thought about that years ago and worked for it!

 Why do you want meatloaf if it isn't even on the dinner menu?

 I can give you a free gift. Would you like a hat or a seat cushion?

 Of course they're my teeth. Don't be a moron.

 I'll take a hat

 David Grant: So, what do you think, dad?

Woody Grant: It doesn't look finished to me.

Sheriff: Hey, partner.

Sheriff: Hold on there, just a second.

Sheriff: Where are you headed, there?

Sheriff: Where are you headed up to?

Sheriff: How are you doing there, bud?

Sheriff: Huh? Are you okay?

Sheriff: Where are you headed?

Sheriff: You headed down the road, there, huh?

Sheriff: (grunts)

Sheriff: Huh?

Sheriff: Where are you coming from?

Woody Grant: Yeah?

paint from Southampton Avenue Subway June 12 2015

words from Nebraska (2013)

Nebraska too

I was looking at the black and white world

It seemed so exciting

It's a freeze-frame still, it's real life

The world is black, the world is white

Their robes were black, Their heads were white,

The schoolhouse doors were closed so tight,
Nine judges all set down their names,
To end the years and years of shame.

no one ever mentions the past

woah, woah, woah, all you true believers

there are no rules for dreams

show of strength

your golden smile would shame a politician

Nebraska

I was looking at the black and white world

It seemed so exciting

It's a freeze-frame still, it's real life

The world is black, the world is white

Their robes were black, Their heads were white,
The schoolhouse doors were closed so tight,
Nine judges all set down their names,
To end the years and years of shame.

no one ever mentions the past

woah, woah, woah, all you true believers

there are no rules for dreams

show of strength

your golden smile would shame a politician

1916 - Green Fields of France

Oh how do you young Willie McBride

Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside

And rest for a while in the warm summer sun

I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done

And I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen

When you joined the great fallen in 1916

Well I hope you died quick

And I hope you died clean

Or Willy McBride, was is it slow and obscene

Did they beat the drums slowly

Did they play the fife lowly

Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down

Did the band play the last post and chorus

Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind

In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined

And though you died back in 1916

To that loyal heart you're forever nineteen

Or are you a stranger without even a name 

Forever enshrined behind some old glass pane

In an old photograph torn, tattered, and stained

And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame

Did they beat the drums slowly

Did they play the fife lowly

Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down

Did the band play the last post and chorus

Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

The sun shining down on these green fields of France

The warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance

The trenches have vanished long under the plow

No gas, no barbed wire, no guns firing now

But here in this graveyard that's still no mans land

The countless white crosses in mute witness stand

To man's blind indifference to his fellow man

And a whole generation were butchered and damned

Did they beat the drums slowly

Did they play the fife lowly

Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down

Did the band play the last post and chorus

Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

And I can't help but wonder oh Willy McBride

Do all those who lie here know why they died

Did you really believe them when they told you the cause

Did you really believe that this war would end wars

Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame

The killing and dying it was all done in vain

Oh Willy McBride it all happened again

And again, and again, and again, and again

Did they beat the drums slowly

Did they play the fife lowly

Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down

Did the band play the last post and chorus

Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

Words by Eric Bogle

Photos by Mme Akriche, our Paris correspondent, taken on her way to work this morning.

Brockley Street Art Festival

Brockley, Nathan Bowen, twitpic from @lionelstanhope

Brockley Street Art Festival running from 29 May to 6 June, in Brockley, London and surrounding neighbourhoods, creating stunning murals by local, national and international artists.

www.brockleystreetart.com

Brockley, Nathan Bowen, twitpic from @globalstreetart

top lettering from Nathan Bowen

twitpic from @londonist

Bob Marley by Dale Grimshaw

art by bAMBopINK,  twitpic by @bAMBopINK

bAMBopINK - all in the details

art by bAMBopINK,  twitpic by @bAMBopINK

art by bAMBopINK,  twitpic by @bAMBopINK

signed, sealed, delivered

art by Attai, twitpic by @brocjacktheatre

Attai at Jack Studio Theatre

art by Attai, twitpic by @ibrim

Attai at Honor Oak Chippy

badgerz rool by Deadly Knitshade, twitpic by @chimpman

Deadly Knitshade

badgerz rool by Deadly Knitshade, twitpic by @deadlyknitshade

Badgers? BADGERS? We don't need your stinkin' badgers

Blazing Saddlers

art by Masai, twitpic by @globalstreetart

listen to your last tiger hero

art by Masai, twitpic by @ibrim

art by @mrcenzgraffiti, twitpic by @monoprixx

Mr Cenz

art by @mrcenzgraffiti, twitpic by @ibrim

art by @mrcenzgraffiti, twitpic by @lionelstanhope

saving the best for last

photos from #twitter @BrockleyStreetArt, @ibrim, @monoprixx, @deadlyknitshade, @chimpman, @lionelstanhope, @londonist, @GlobalStreetArt, @bAMBopINK, @brocjacktheatre

thanks to the organisers, the artists and the photographers