"The Hunt" genre: Blues Rock
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	hi-energy blues rocker about the hypocrisy on all sides of the "war on drugs"
	CD: Tom's Cafe   Label: 2002 Sidewalking Crab Records available on CDBaby.com and www.jamescurley.net Credits: see www.jamesfcurley.com for full credits
	Story Behind the Song I've often wondered why we protest against companies selling sneakers or clothes being made in sweatshops but are willing to buy cocaine, marijuana, and various other illicit substances that come directly from organizations who are willing to murder farmers, truckers, law enforcement agents, children, judges, competitors or anyone else who gets in their way. Only "consumers" of these products can dry up the supply by not buying. If we believe that it's immoral to purchase textiles that come from mistreated laborers, is it not the same with drugs? There's enough hypocrisy to go around on this issue. At least we can try to hold corporations responsible for sweatshop products, but as long as there's a "war on drugs" instead of common-sense standardization, manufacturing, regulation and taxation of these substances, we will continue to see murder as a sales tool. Lyrics The Hunt There's a hunt on for a little white line; claiming victims one at a time Providing profit for organized crime, building the bank accounts of human slime Appealing mainly to the nouveau riche who make rock n roll or microchips The hunt is funding the Las Vegas strip while cartel generals invest blue chips And some punk dies in the hunt for a little white line Some are the foxes, some are the hounds; but they're all running on common ground Like children riding the merry go round, they grab the ring but it pulls them down Parked in a BMW along an elegant avenue; Revolver bullet hits a good wool suit; your mother said it was no good for you. Just a bystander in the hunt for the little white line You can have a soiree at your gallery You can recommend it; it works for you You can say you're righteous, you can claim it's true But the truth is clear; evident in what you do And this is what you do You take the money that your family needs; take the blossoms and discard the seeds Think you're an orchid in a world of weeds; believe that you're one of the less deceived You say this has nothing to do with me; I'm not at fault if someone bleeds I'm not the peasant who picks the leaves; I'm not the widow of the new deceased. I'm not the rifle in the hunt for the little white line Not the trigger in the hunt for the little white line Not the bullet in the hunt for the little white line ©2002 James F. Curley

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