Continuing the discussion from Philosophy in song (Part 1) - #17130 by iambiguous.
Previous discussions:
The Durutti Column
When the world is no longer watching
Stay faithful to your drug
Uh, fuck the world? You know, if that’s an option.
Folk Devils
I sleep in a hole under the sky
I get mistaken for your average guy
Stalk him to his comfortable home
I see it all I see the fire and chrome
Such an evil eye, it’s such an evil eye!
Cold is the hunter, warm is the blade
The ground is hard, so is the spade
We live like garbage, stinking high
Don’t you put no pennies on my evil eye
Cash is fine though.
Leonard Cohen
And who by fire?
Who by water?
Who in the sunshine?
Who in the night time?
Who by high ordeal?
Who by common trial?
Who in your merry merry month of May?
Who by very slow decay?
And who shall I say is calling?
(Who shall I say is calling?)
And who in her lonely slip?
Who by barbiturate?
Who in these realms of love?
Who by something blunt?
Who by avalanche?
Who by powder?
Who for his greed?
Who for his hunger?
And who shall I say is calling?
(Who shall I say is calling?)
And who by brave assent?
Who by accident?
Who in solitude?
Who in this mirror?
Who by his lady’s command?
Who by his own hand?
Who in mortal chains?
Who in power?
And who shall I say is calling?
(Who shall I say is calling?)
If it’s not Him in other words.
Judy Collins
Now that our mountain is growing with people hungry for wealth
How come it’s you that’s a-going
and I’m left all alone by myself?
We used to hunt the cool caverns deep in our forest of green
Then came the road and the tavern and you found a new love it seems
Once I had you and the wildwood, now it’s just dusty roads
And I can’t help but blamin’ your going
On the coming, the coming of the roads
Look how they’ve cut all to pieces our ancient redwood and oak
And the hillsides are stained with the greases
That burned up the heavens with smoke
You used to curse the bold crewmen
who stripped our earth of its ore
Now you’ve changed and you’ve gone over to them
And you’ve learned to love what you hated before
Once I thanked God for my treasure, now like rust it corrodes
And I can’t help but blamin’ your goin’
On the coming, the coming of the roads.
Once I thanked God for my treasure, now like rust it corrodes
And I can’t help but blamin’ your goin’
On the coming, the coming of the roads.
And I can’t help but blamin’ your goin’
On the coming, the coming of the roads.
This is a song of loss. And the loss is both personal and political. But, again, if it is something you cannot relate to in your own life it won’t seem haunting at all.
XTC
Dear God, hope you got the letter, and…
I pray you can make it better down here.
I don’t mean a big reduction in the price of beer
but all the people that you made in your image, see
them starving on their feet 'cause they don’t get
enough to eat from God, I can’t believe in you
Dear God, sorry to disturb you, but… I feel that I should be heard
loud and clear. We all need a big reduction in amount of tears
and all the people that you made in your image, see them fighting
in the street 'cause they can’t make opinions meet about God,
I can’t believe in you
Did you make disease, and the diamond blue? Did you make
mankind after we made you? And the devil too!
Dear God, don’t know if you noticed, but… your name is on
a lot of quotes in this book, and us crazy humans wrote it, you
should take a look, and all the people that you made in your
image still believing that junk is true. Well I know it ain’t, and
so do you, dear God, I can’t believe in I don’t believe in
I won’t believe in heaven and hell. No saints, no sinners, no
devil as well. No pearly gates, no thorny crown. You’re always
letting us humans down. The wars you bring, the babes you
drown. Those lost at sea and never found, and it’s the same the
whole world 'round. The hurt I see helps to compound that
Father, Son and Holy Ghost is just somebody’s unholy hoax,
and if you’re up there you’d perceive that my heart’s here upon
my sleeve. If there’s one thing I don’t believe in it’s you…
See you in Hell?
Jim Carroll
Teddy sniffing glue, he was 12 years old
Fell from the roof on East Two-nine
Cathy was 11 when she pulled the plug
On 26 reds and a bottle of wine
Bobby got leukemia, 14 years old
He looked like 65 when he died
He was a friend of mine
Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died
G-berg and Georgie let their gimmicks go rotten
So they died of hepatitis in upper Manhattan
Sly in Vietnam took a bullet in the head
Bobby OD’d on Drano on the night that he was wed
They were two more friends of mine
Two more friends that died
Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died
Mary took a dry dive from a hotel room
Bobby hung himself from a cell in the tombs
Judy jumped in front of a subway train
Eddie got slit in the jugular vein
And Eddie, I miss you more than all the others
And I salute you brother
Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died
Herbie pushed Tony from the Boys’ Club roof
Tony thought that his rage was just some goof
But Herbie sure gave Tony some bitchen proof
“Hey,” Herbie said, “Tony, can you fly?”
But Tony couldn’t fly, Tony died
Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died
Brian got busted on a narco rap
He beat the rap by rattin’ on some bikers
He said, “Hey, I know it’s dangerous, but it sure beats Riker’s”
But the next day he got offed by the very same bikers
Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died
And now he’s dead too.
Lyrics
David Bowie
I heard telephones, opera house, favourite melodies
I saw boys, toys, electric irons and TV’s
My brain hurt like a warehouse, it had no room to spare
I had to cram so many things to store everything in there
And with more things coming all the time.
Nick Cave
Some things we plan, we sit and we invent and we plot and cook up
Others are works of inspiration, of poetry
And what we post here?
Leonard Cohen
When they poured across the border
I was cautioned to surrender,
this I could not do;
I took my gun and vanished.
I have changed my name so often,
I’ve lost my wife and children
but I have many friends,
and some of them are with me.
An old woman gave us shelter,
kept us hidden in the garret,
then the soldiers came;
she died without a whisper.
There were three of us this morning
I’m the only one this evening
but I must go on;
the frontiers are my prison.
Oh, the wind, the wind is blowing,
through the graves the wind is blowing,
freedom soon will come;
then we’ll come from the shadows.
One war at a time, say?
John Lennon
As soon as you’re born they make you feel small
By giving you no time instead of it all
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all
A working class hero is something to be
They hurt you at home and they hit you at school
They hate you if you’re clever and they despise a fool
Till you’re so fucking crazy you can’t follow their rules
A working class hero is something to be
When they’ve tortured and scared you for twenty-odd years
Then they expect you to pick a career
When you can’t really function you’re so full of fear
A working class hero is something to be
Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV
And you think you’re so clever and classless and free
But you’re still fucking peasants as far as I can see
A working class hero is something to be
There’s room at the top they’re telling you still
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill
If you want to be like the folks on the hill
A working class hero is something to be
If you want to be a hero well just follow me
We’ve got a few of them here, don’t we?
Leonard Cohen
Four o’clock in the afternoon
And I didn’t feel like very much.
I said to myself, “Where are you golden boy,
Where is your famous golden touch?”
I thought you knew where
All of the elephants lie down,
I thought you were the crown prince
Of all the wheels in Ivory Town.
Just take a look at your body now,
There’s nothing much to save
And a bitter voice in the mirror cries,
“Hey, Prince, you need a shave.”
Now if you can manage to get
Your trembling fingers to behave,
Why don’t you try unwrapping
A stainless steel razor blade?
That’s right, it’s come to this,
Yes it’s come to this,
And wasn’t it a long way down,
Wasn’t it a strange way down?
There’s no hot water
And the cold is running thin.
Well, what do you expect from
The kind of places you’ve been living in?
Don’t drink from that cup,
It’s all caked and cracked along the rim.
That’s not the electric light, my friend,
That is your vision growing dim.
Cover up your face with soap, there,
Now you’re Santa Claus.
And you’ve got a gift for anyone
Who will give you his applause.
I thought you were a racing man,
Ah, but you couldn’t take the pace.
That’s a funeral in the mirror
And it’s stopping at your face.
That’s right, it’s come to this,
Yes it’s come to this,
And wasn’t it a long way down,
Ah wasn’t it a strange way down?
Once there was a path
And a girl with chestnut hair,
And you passed the summers
Picking all of the berries that grew there
There were times she was a woman,
Oh, there were times she was just a child,
And you held her in the shadows
Where the raspberries grow wild.
And you climbed the twilight mountains
And you sang about the view,
And everywhere that you wandered
Love seemed to go along with you.
That’s a hard one to remember,
Yes it makes you clench your fist.
And then the veins stand out like highways,
All along your wrist.
And yes it’s come to this,
It’s come to this,
And wasn’t it a long way down,
Wasn’t it a strange way down?
You can still find a job,
Go out and talk to a friend.
On the back of every magazine
There are those coupons you can send.
Why don’t you join the Rosicrucians,
They can give you back your hope,
You can find your love with diagrams
On a plain brown envelope.
But you’ve used up all your coupons
Except the one that seems
To be written on your wrist
Along with several thousand dreams.
Now Santa Claus comes forward,
That’s a razor in his mit
And he puts on his dark glasses
And he shows you where to hit
And then the cameras pan,
The stand in stunt man,
Dress rehearsal rag,
It’s just the dress rehearsal rag,
You know this dress rehearsal rag,
It’s just a dress rehearsal rag.
So, what are your rehearsals like?
Tears For Fears
And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it’s a very, very
Mad world, mad world
Next up: eternal recurrence.
Lyrics
Stephen Stills
Four and twenty years ago, I come into this life,
the son of a woman and a man who lived in strife.
He was tired of being poor and he wasn’t into selling door to door
and he worked like the devil to be more.
A different kind of poverty now upsets me so.
Night after sleepless night, I walk the floor and I want to know- why am I so alone?
Where is my woman can I bring her home? Have I driven her away? Is she gone?
Morning comes to sunrise and I’m driven to my bed.
I see that it is empty and there’s devils in my head.
I embrace the many colored beast. I grow weary of the torment, can there be no peace?
And I find myself just wishing that my life would simply cease
Now he is 9 and 70 years old. Time for the sequel?
Bob Dylan
I see people in the park forgettin’ their troubles and woes
They’re drinkin’ and dancin’, wearin’ bright colored clothes
All the young men, with the young women lookin’ so good
Well, I’d trade places with any of 'em in a minute, if I could.
Bob, he’s now 2 and 80 years old.
Leonard Cohen
[b]God is alive, magic is afoot
God is alive, magic is afoot
God is alive, magic is afoot
God is afoot, magic is alive
Alive is afoot, magic never died
God never sickened
Many poor men lied
Many sick men lied
Magic never weakened
Magic never hid
Magic always ruled
God is afoot, God never died
God was ruler
Though his funeral lengthened
Though his mourners thickened
Magic never fled
Though his shrouds were hoisted
The naked God did live
Though his words were twisted
The naked magic thrived
Though his death was published
Round and round the world
The heart did not believe
Many hurt men wondered
Many struck men bled
Magic never faltered
Magic always lead
Many stones were rolled
But God would not lie down
Many wild men lied
Many fat men listened
Though they offered stones
Magic still was fed
Though they locked their coffers
God was always served
Magic is afoot, God is alive
Alive is afoot
Alive is in command
Many weak men hungered
Many strong men thrived
Though they boast of solitude
God was at their side
Nor the captain on the hill
Magic is alive
Though his death was pardoned
Round and round the world
The heart would not believe
Though laws were carved in marble
They could not shelter men
Though altars built in parliaments
They could not order men
Police arrested magic and
magic went with them
Mmmmm… for magic loves the hungry
But magic would not tarry
It moves from arm to arm
It would not stay with them
Magic is afoot
It cannot come to harm
It rests in an empty palm
It spawns in an empty mind
But magic is no instrument
Magic is the end
Many men drove magic
But magic stayed behind
Many strong men lied
They only passed through magic
And out the other side
Many weak men lied
They came to God in secret
And though they left Him nourished
They would not tell who healed
Though mountains danced before them
They said that God was dead
Though his shrouds were hoisted
The naked God did live
This I mean to whisper to my mind
This I mean to laugh within my mind
This I mean my mind to serve
Til’ service is but magic
Moving through the world
And mind itself is magic
Coursing through the flesh
And flesh itself is magic
Dancing on a clock
And time itself
The magic length of God[/b]
Let’s run this by IC.
Donovon
[b]I went up for my interview on the fourth day of July.
First old man he questioned me until I nearly cried,
Made me fill in forms until I shook with fear
About the colour of my toilet roll and if my cousin’s queer.
Here’s your goldwatch and the shackles for your chain
And your piece of paper to say you left here sane.
And if you’ve a son who wants a good career
Just get him to sign on the dotted line and work for fifty
years.
He asked me how many jobs I’d had before.
He nearly had a heart attack when I answered, four.
Four jobs in twenty years, oh, this can never be
We only take on men who work until they die.
He took me outside to where the gravestones stand in line.
This is where we bury them in quick-stone and in lime
And if you come to work for us on this you must agree,
That if you’re going to die please do it during tea.
This story that you heard you may think rather queer
But it is the truth you’ll be surprised to hear.
I did not want no job upon the board,
I just wanted to take a broom and sweep the bloody floor.[/b]
But only until, say, the workers of the world unite?
David Bowie
And my brother’s back at home with his Beatles and his Stones
We never got it off on that revolution stuff
What a drag
Too many snags
And more coming all the time.
Bob Dylan
And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They’d probably put my head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only.
Or, rather, what’s left of it?
It’s funny because, if all you did was show me that album cover and ask me to guess what kind of music it was, I would say it’s obviously black metal.
In any other country, if you show a sample of folk music like that, people would be ready to kill for it like a Muslim fanatic for Allah. Across all levels of society.
In the US?
They call it white trash and spit.
Well, the vocal minority anyway.
Thanks for the beautiful music, Stanley bros.
Hilariously, the more they’re “for the working class,” the more spitefully they spit.
Lyrics
Danny O’Keefe
Don’t know what it comes to
Don’t expect I ever will
But the feelings that don’t die inside
Are the ones you cannot kill
And if I’ve really lost her
I’ll start the search again
Longing for Love’s waters
To wash me clean again
Take me to that river
I’m ready for the plunge
There ain’t been much water lately
In my sponge
How about your sponge?
Hole
And the sky was all violet
I want it again, but violent, more violent
Yeah, I’m the one with no soul
One above and one below
I told you from the start just how this would end
When I get what I want, then I never want it again
When they get what they want, and they never want it again
And they get what they want, and they never want it again
Go on, take everything, take everything, I want you to
Go on, take everything, take everything, I want you to
Speaking of violence, did she or didn’t she shoot him?
June Tabor
When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son
It’s time to stop rambling 'cause there’s work to be
done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we sailed away from the quay
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the
cheers
We sailed off to Gallipoli
How well I remember that terrible day
the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well
He us with bullets, he rained us with
shells
And in five minutes flat he’d blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia
But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
And we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then started all over again
Now those
In mad world of blood, death and fire
And for weeks I kept myself alive
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit
And when I woke up in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was
dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying
no more I’ll go waltzing Matilda
the green far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me
So they collected the cripples, the wounded
maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
, the blind insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where legs used to be
And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
turned all their faces away
And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving dreams of past glory
The forgotten heroes a forgotten war
And the young people ask , “What are they
marching for?”
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men answer to the call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who’ll a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Tell that to the military industrial complex. The one down under.
Kate Wolf
I was 17 when I quit school
The year that I enlisted
I don’t recall just why I did
My mom says I insisted
I had some strange idea then
That Uncle Sam was right
Momma cried, she signed the card
And I went off to fight
But I just found out this morning
The doctor told me so
They killed me in Vietnam
And I didn’t even know
Got off the plane in Vietnam
It didn’t look like war
With all I saw I started wonderin’
What we came there for
Some officers got drunk at night
And cheated on their wives
While those peasants on the other side
Were fightin’ for their lives
You know the army tried some fancy stuff
To bring them to their knees
Like Agent Orange defoliants
To clear the brush and trees
They fly all day above the trails
Through clouds of poison spray
But they never said that chemicals
Would hurt our health today
But I got the news this morning
The doctor told me so
They killed me in Vietnam
And I didn’t even know
Well I tried hard to forget
That war like everybody else did
I settled down, got married
And I even had some kids
Our children both had birth defects
The doctors had their doubts
They never said what caused it
But I think I just found out
Because I just found out this morning
Yeah, the doctor told me so
They killed me in Vietnam
And I didn’t even know
The doctor says I have some time
He was trying to be kind
Your know I’ve never been a radical
But this has changed my mind
I’d be so proud to hear my son say:
"Hell no we won’t go
Because you killed our dad in Vietnam
And he didn’t even know
"This Agent Orange from Vietnam
We carry with us still
Stays inside for years and years
It does its best to kill
You might get cancer of the liver
You might get cancer of the skin
You might get a VA disability
You might not live to win
Because I got the news this morning
The doctor told me so
They killed me in Vietnam
And I didn’t even know
They killed me in Vietnam
And I didn’t even know
They almost got me too.
David Bromberg
Somewhere in the south of Spain
Sammy, still sixteen, goes with his uncle for a ride
The sun is high
Sailing through the city
For to see the sights and the talking sex
Sammy’s sitting tall
The sun is high
His uncle brings him to a brothel
Being big, he buys a drink
Rum and Coke
Don’t taste too bad
Having brought him to the brink
His uncle leaves him with his drink
Rum and Coke
Don’t taste too bad
The girls all gather in a group
And give Sammy boy the eye
And stare at him seductively
And try to make him buy
So choosing one that’s younger
Better looking than the rest
Sammy speaks no Spanish but she understands
They go upstairs to buy the room
She wants her money in advance
Sammy speaks no Spanish but he understands
And lying on her back upon the bed she beckons
Sammy won’t lie down yet
He wants her nude
Speaking Spanish, she refuses him
At last, afraid of losing him
She takes off all her clothes
He wants her nude
Her hands upon her heart can hardly hide the horrid scars
From her shoulder to her waist, her skin is leathery and hard
She pantomimes an accident
A car, a fire, not so long ago
His eyes are wide
She moves to put her clothes back on
But he won’t let her go
He lies her down
His eyes are wide
And lightly, like a lover
Sammy lets his lips caress the leather of her breast
His brain is numb
Moved by some far, distant mind
He makes himself her bridegroom
Sammy’s hardly there at all
His brain is numb
She moves to take him in now
But her hand finds him still slack
So she sucks to make him hard
And then again lies on her back
And Sammy does the deed to silent screaming in his skull
The scars surround him
Is this all real?
Schizophrenic, Sammy sees himself
Outside his body and his brain
Is this all real?
And back at the hotel he has to heal himself
But all he does is shake
And shake some more
Without the grace of tears or sickness
Sammy sucks it all inside and shakes
And shakes some more
Without the grace of tears or sickness
Sammy sucks it all inside and shakes
And shakes some more
And even if it’s not true, we know it could be.
Alan Parsons
Time, flowin’ like a river
Time, beckoning me
Who knows when we shall meet again?
If ever
But time keeps flowin’ like a river
To the sea
Goodbye, my love
Maybe for forever
Goodbye, my love
The tide waits for me
Who knows when we shall meet again?
If ever
But time keeps flowin’ like a river (On and on)
To the sea, to the sea
'Til it’s gone forever
Gone forever
Gone forevermore
Goodbye, my friends
Maybe for forever
Goodbye, my friends
Who knows where we shall meet again?
The stars wait for me
Who knows where we shall meet again?
If ever
But time keeps flowin’ like a river (On and on)
To the sea, to the sea
Til it’s gone forever
Gone forever
Gone forevermore
Not many that isn’t applicable to.
Lyrics
John Prine
There’s flies in the kitchen, I can hear 'em there buzzing
And I ain’t done nothing since I woke up today
How the hell can a person go to work in the morning
And come home in the evening and have nothing to say?
This Mortal Coil
The jeweler has a shop on the corner of the boulevard
In the night, in small spectacles, he polishes old coins
He uses spit and cloth and ashes
He makes them shine with ashes
He knows the use of ashes
He worships God with ashes
The coins are often very old by the time they reach the jeweler
With his hands and ashes he will try the best he can
He knows that he can only shine them
Cannot repair the scratches
He knows that even new coins have scars so he just smiles
He knows the use of ashes
He worships God with ashes
In the darkest of the night both his hands will blister badly
They will often open painfully and the blood flows from his hands
He works to take from black coin faces the thumbprints from so many ages
He wishes he could cure the scars
When he forgets he sometimes cries
He knows the use of ashes
He worships God with ashes
Gang of Four
Blinkered, paralyzed
Flat on my back
They say our world is built on endeavor
That every man is for himself
Wealth is for the one that wants it
Paradise, if you can earn it
History is the reason
I’m washed up
My ambitions come to nothing
What I wanted now just seems a waste of time
I can’t make out what has gone wrong
I was good at what I did[
The Clash
This is a public service announcement
With guitar
Know your rights all three of them
Number 1
You have the right not to be killed
Murder is a CRIME!
Unless it was done by a
Policeman or aristocrat
Know your rights
And Number 2
You have the right to food money
Providing of course you
Don’t mind a little
Investigation, humiliation
And if you cross your fingers
Rehabilitation
Know your rights
These are your rights
Number 3
You have the right to free speech
As long as you’re not
Dumb enough to actually try it.
Know your rights
These are your rights
All three of 'em
It has been suggested
In some quarters that this is not enough!
Well…
Laurie Anderson
**I’m thinking back to when I was a child - **
Way back to when I was a tot
**When I was an embryo - **
A tiny speck. Just a dot
**When I was a Hershey bar - **
In my father’s back pocket
Laurie Anderson
I came home today and you had rearranged all the furniture
And you had changed your name
And I’d never seen you wear that pin-striped shirt before
And then I realized, I was in the wrong house
Tear up every time.