Comfortable Disappearance

New song, on time! This one doesn’t need much explaining…With all of the stuff going down about the Bush Administration and their wicked finally (hopefully) taking some hits, I was reminded of one of my favorite songs of all time:

Bob Dylan - Masters of War (various recordings)

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it’s your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people’s blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You’ve thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain’t worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I’m young
You might say I’m unlearned
But there’s one thing I know
Though I’m younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death’ll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I’ll watch while you’re lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I’ll stand o’er your grave
‘Til I’m sure that you’re dead

Ok, so my plan to update this during the week is a total failure. Work has just been to busy lately…

This week’s selection is a song that makes me smile every single time I hear. The line, “Thank you Stranger, for your therapeutic smile,” is, I think, a testament to how wonderful helping someone you don’t know can be. This song helps me to remember to, that even though a lot of crappy stuff can happen in life, you need to just stick with it, and remember the good stuff (like the amazing woman I married).

Enough cheesiness…here it is:

Bright Eyes - “Bowl of Oranges” from “Lifted, or the Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground.”

The rain, it started tapping on the window near my bed. There was a loophole in my dreaming,
so I got out of it. And to my surprise my eyes were wide and already open.
Just my nightstand and my dresser where those nightmares had just been.
So I dressed myself and left then, out into the gray streets.
But everything seemed different and completely new to me.
The sky, the trees, houses, buildings, even my own body.
And each person I encountered, I couldn’t wait to meet.
I came upon a doctor who appeared in quite poor health.
I said “{I am terribly sorry but} there is nothing I can do for you
{that} you can’t do for yourself.”
He said “Oh yes you can. Just hold my hand. I think that would help.”
So I sat with him a while and then I asked him how he felt.
He said, “I think I’m cured. No, in fact, I’m sure.
Thank you Stranger, for your therapeutic smile.”
So that is how I learned the lesson that everyone is alone.
And your eyes must do some raining if you are ever going to grow.
But when crying don’t help and you can’t compose yourself.
It is best to compose a poem, an honest verse of longing or simple song of hope.
That is why I’m singing…
Baby don’t worry cause now I got your back. And every time you feel like crying,
I’m gonna try and make you laugh. And if I can’t, if it just hurts too bad,
then we will wait for it to pass and I will keep you company
through those days so long and black.
And we’ll keep working on the problem we know we’ll never solve
Of Love’s uneven remainders, our lives are fractions of a whole.
But if the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall.
Then I think we would see the beauty.
Then we would stand staring in awe at our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges,
like a story told by the fault lines and the soil.

It’s been a ridiculously wild past 2 weeks and haven’t had time to breath, let alone update this thing. I have a lot of catching up to do, but for now, let’s get caught on song #3.

I picked 16 x 32 by the Decemberists off their latest full length LP, Picaresque. It’s a really, really catch track, and it makes a great statement about America’s mis-guided foreign policy. The video is hilarious too!

“16 x 32″ - The Decemberists - Picaresque

Sixteen military wives,
Thirty-two softly focused, brightly colored eyes,
Staring at the natural tan,
of thirty-two gently clenching, wrinkled, little hands.

Seventeen company men,
Out of which only twelve will make it back again.
Seargeant sent a letter to five,
Military wives, his tears drip down to ten little eyes.

Cheer them on to their rivals
Cause America can, and America can’t say no
And America does, if America says it’s so
It’s so

And the anchorperson on TV goes…
La de da de da

Fifteen celebrity mimes
Leaving their fifteen sorted wretched checkered lives
Will they find the solution in time
Using their fifteen pristine moderate liberal minds?

Eighteen academy chairs
Out of which only seven really even care
Doling out a garment to five
Celebrity mimes, they’re humbly taken by surprise

Cheer them on to their rivals
Cause America can, and America can’t say no
And America does, if America says it’s so
It’s so

And the anchorperson on TV goes…
La de da de da de-dadedade-da
La de da de da de-dadedade-da

Fourteen cannibal kings
Wondering blindly what the dinner bell will bring
Fifteen celebrity mimes
Served on a leafy bed th sixteen military wives

Cheer them on to their rivals
Cause America can, and America can’t say no
And America does, if America says it’s so
It’s so

And the anchorperson on TV goes…
La de da de da de-dadedade-da
La de da de da de-dadedade-da