Best generation defining song(s) ^__^
Post the song(s), any genre, that you think defined your generation
For me, it would have to be:
MeatLoaf - Wasted Youth & Everything Louder Than Everything Else
Twisted Sister - We ain't gonna take it
Van Halen - Right Now
For me, it would have to be:
MeatLoaf - Wasted Youth & Everything Louder Than Everything Else
Twisted Sister - We ain't gonna take it
Van Halen - Right Now
Thriller was an... interesting... video 
Another Michael Jackson song that defined the 80's was Smooth Criminal, because it was the second "mini-movie" of Jackson's plus it was the very first video in which he did the moonwalk

Another Michael Jackson song that defined the 80's was Smooth Criminal, because it was the second "mini-movie" of Jackson's plus it was the very first video in which he did the moonwalk
Generation Defining song, here's my contribution:
Crosby Stills Nash Young Lyrics Four Dead In Ohio
Artist : Crosby Stills Nash Young
Song : Four Dead In Ohio
Tin soldiers and Nixon's comin'.
We're finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drummin'.
Four dead in Ohio.
Gotta get down to it.
Soldiers are gunning us down.
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her and
Found her dead on the ground?
How can you run when you know?
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na.
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na.
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na.
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na.
Gotta get down to it.
Soldiers are cutting us down.
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her and
Found her dead on the ground?
How can you run when you know?
Tin soldiers and Nixon's comin'.
We're finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drummin'.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Crosby Stills Nash Young Lyrics Four Dead In Ohio
Artist : Crosby Stills Nash Young
Song : Four Dead In Ohio
Tin soldiers and Nixon's comin'.
We're finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drummin'.
Four dead in Ohio.
Gotta get down to it.
Soldiers are gunning us down.
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her and
Found her dead on the ground?
How can you run when you know?
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na.
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na.
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na.
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na.
Gotta get down to it.
Soldiers are cutting us down.
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her and
Found her dead on the ground?
How can you run when you know?
Tin soldiers and Nixon's comin'.
We're finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drummin'.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
Four dead in Ohio.
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Here's another:
The Ballad Of Sam Stone
(John Prine)
Sam Stone came home to his wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas
And the time he had served had shattered all his nerves
And left a little shrapnel in his knee
But morphine eased the pain, and the grass grew round his brain
And gave him all the confidence he lacked
With a Purple Heart, and a monkey on his back
Chorus:
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothing, I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears, don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
Sam Stone's welcome home didn't last too long
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
So Sam took to stealing when he got that empty feeling
For a hundred-dollar habit, without overtime
But the gold flowed through his veins like a thousand railroad trains
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose
While his kids ran round wearing other people's clothes
Chorus:
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothing, I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears, don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
Sam Stone was alone when he popped his last balloon
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair
And he played his last request while the room just smelled like death
With an overdose hovering in the air
You see, life had lost its fun, there was nothing to be done
But trade his house he'd borrowed on the G.I. bill
For a flag-draped casket on the local heroes' hill
Chorus:
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothing, I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears, don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
The Ballad Of Sam Stone
(John Prine)
Sam Stone came home to his wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas
And the time he had served had shattered all his nerves
And left a little shrapnel in his knee
But morphine eased the pain, and the grass grew round his brain
And gave him all the confidence he lacked
With a Purple Heart, and a monkey on his back
Chorus:
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothing, I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears, don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
Sam Stone's welcome home didn't last too long
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
So Sam took to stealing when he got that empty feeling
For a hundred-dollar habit, without overtime
But the gold flowed through his veins like a thousand railroad trains
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose
While his kids ran round wearing other people's clothes
Chorus:
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothing, I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears, don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
Sam Stone was alone when he popped his last balloon
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair
And he played his last request while the room just smelled like death
With an overdose hovering in the air
You see, life had lost its fun, there was nothing to be done
But trade his house he'd borrowed on the G.I. bill
For a flag-draped casket on the local heroes' hill
Chorus:
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothing, I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears, don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios





to old and experienced ^__^

