I Went To The Summit Of The Americas And All I Got Was This Lousy Tear Gas Canister In The Back Of The Head

by Ripcordz

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PAUL GOTT - vocals, guitars
ALEX - bass, vocals
SIMON CLOUTIER - drums, vocals

Backing vocals - Ripcordz and Chris Page
Recorded by Rob Martens and Dave Drave at Little Big Horn Studio, Ottawa
All songs by Paul Gott (SOCAN) except "Good Clean Fun" (Smith/McGuire)
Cover photos by Guillaume Simoneau


released January 1, 2002



all rights reserved


Ripcordz Montreal, Québec

Formed in 1980 and been playing ever since. Proud Punks from Montreal. We've played more than 2,500 shows and put out 15 albums. But we're not living in the past. Our new stuff is our best stuff.

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Track Name: Let's Go
The kids are in the street
Voting with their feet
Powers to defeat
Talk for you and me
Did you forget why you think you're free
Pop a Pepsi, watch it on TV

Inside battle lines
Secret deals are signed
Suits are whined and dined
Corporate cops align
Spin doctors, they watch the nightly news
Can't heal the wounds as they turn the screws

Voice raised and then they shout
Anarchy in action's all around

They're fighting in the street
Voting with their feet
Cops turn up the heat
It don't mean defeat
Calls for reason lost amid the sound
Peace in pieces, trampled underground
Track Name: Right Here And Now
It was so real, so terrifying
Caught in a deal I made with you
An honest start, so much like lying
An honest heart without a clue

I don't want to reoffend
Don't want to see your face again
I will never be your friend
I just want it all to end
Right here and now

Give and take is what's expected
An honest mistake is what's allowed
How it got so far so unaffected
Things are what they are, and two's a crowd

Things looked so different through a beer-soaked haze
Now I'm gonna put an end to those days
Courage found in desperation works just fine
I hear the voice of reason and I know it's mine
Track Name: Baby Is Waiting At Home
Paper's piling high
The telephone it starts to cry
And all I can think of is you

The world is rushing by
Little fish are getting fried
And all I can think of is two

Welcome to the working day
Folks to meet, bills to pay

The clock it moves in slow motion
Say that now with more emotion
The young, the wasted, the few

Surrounded and alone
Take whatever I am thrown
Coz baby is waiting at home

Hard to figure, hard to say
Let's do lunch another day
I'm sure I've got something to do

Come on answer
Can't you hear the ringing of the bell?
The pod people will take your cash
And make you feel so swell

Touch control, a voice that smoulders
Good headset on her shoulders
Even my folks would approve

Phones ring, bosses yell
Daydreams go to Hell

Another second gone
Don't know if I have won
And still all I think of is two

The clock an evil notion
State that now with more emotion
The young, the hasty, the few
Track Name: Revolution 101
You copied that stark logo of Ché Guevera
A little Lenin goes a long long way
You're gonna lead us all into a brand new era
Gonna do it all today

Amateur anarchists are off in the corner
Plotting over café au lait
Catch me if you can but I'd better warn her
She could suffer your fate

Let's fight those battles once were won
In Revolution 101

Tear it down, all be broken
I read it in the troubled press
Be yourself but pay attention
Your will is mine to express

History has come and gone
Gathers dust on the shelf
Anarchy belongs to no one
And will be long after yourself
Track Name: Girls In The Pit
He's a big fat bruiser, what a loser
All elbows and no sense of fun
She's a mohawk warrior, nothing worries her
And she knows what must be done
No need to fight
She's got him in her sights
And it's slam bam thank-you ma'am
Girls in the pit

Behaving badly, spinning madly
All sweat and strength to forge the mood
Friends are drinking, arms are linking
A chorus line with attitude
Lost in the sound, lost and still found

Sugar and spice is all quite nice
But she's got some fresh advice
Gotta drink them under, speak like thunder
Smile and make them pay the price
Punk 'til she dies, kiss the boys and make 'em cry
Track Name: The American Way
We're not here for a battle
Not here for a fight
Just wanna get to Seattle
Have some fun tonight
Hey there Mr. Customs Guy, why d'you think we're lying?
Why can't you just let us through?

We covered all our tattoos up
We vacuumed Pam the Van
We tried our best not to throw up
How could you tell we're a band?
Hey there Mr. Customs Guy, can't say we're not trying
Just look 'round a second or two

The American Way
Won't get us in today
Why d'you think we're so strange?
Ever been to L.A.?

We won't steal all your money
Your the ones with the guns
Just wanna go where it's sunny
We'll be back in a month
Hey there Mr. Customs Guy, why aren't you buying?
We think George would approve