Favorite Lyrics - Vol. III

Every once in awhile, I find myself listening to tunes and feel the need to list some more of my favorite lyrics. Here is what struck me tonight:

Was the garage your playground
Full of holes
Did you piss in the alley
And get your toes caught in the
Spokes of a bike with a banana seat
Did you carry a knife that was rusted shut tight
You got drunk after church at 13

We may well be the ones
To set this world on its ear
We may well be the ones
If not then why are we here?

I oughta know
I wanna know I wanna know I wanna know
The sweet smell of candles burnt low by young women
Alone on their own for the very first time under
Posters of rock stars that you vaguely resemble
In front of a cad or resounding perhaps
Means that you'll be the next one in line

We may well be the ones
To set this world on its ear
We may well be the ones
If not then why are we here? Why the hell then are we here?
I wanna know I wanna know

You may well be the next one
Someone sell me a hand gun
Goodbye ma, I'm done for
It's the law, tell me what for
I wanna know I wanna know I wanna know

Smoke cigarette butts from your brothers green helmet he wore in that war once
Where everyone lost and they taught him to pour coffee and napalm and
Traded his storm for an intense calm that just won't let him be
We may well be the ones
To set this world on its ear
We may well get it done
Why the hell else are we here?
PAUL WESTERBERG - "We May Be The Ones"


Jacksonville's a city with a hopeless streetlight
Seems like you're lucky if it ever changes red to green
I was born with an abundance of inherited sadness
with 50 cent picture frames bought at a five and dime
WHISKEYTOWN - "Jacksonville Skyline"

What can you see from your window
I can't see anything from mine
Flags on the side of the highway
Scripture on grocery store signs

Maybe 18 was too early
Maybe 30 or 40 is too
Did you get your chance to make peace with the Man
before he sent down his angels for you?

Momma's and Grandmomma's love you
Cause that's all they know how to do
You never planned on the bombs in the sand
Or sleepin' in your dress blues

Your wife said this all would be funny
If you came back home in a week
You'd turn 22 and they'd celebrate you
In a bar or a tent by the creek

Your baby would just about be here
Your very last tour would be up
You ain't comin' back, they're all dressin' in black
Drinkin' sweet tea in styrofoam cups

Momma's and Grandmomma's love you
American boys hate to lose
You never planned on the bombs in the sand
Or sleepin' in your dress blues

The high school gymnasium's ready
Full of flowers and old legionnaires
Nobody showed up to protest
Just to sniffle and stare

Red white and blue in the rafters
Silent old men from the Corps
What did they say when they shipped you away
To fight somebody's Hollywood war

And nobody here could forget you
You showed us what we had to lose
You never planned on the bombs in the sand
Or sleepin' in your dress blues
JASON ISBELL - "Dress Blues"

A couple of notes about that last song. Jason Isbell is one of the former lead singers of Drive By Truckers, an outstanding southern band. Isbell wrote this song about a friend of his from Muscle Shoals, Alabama, who joined the Marines and never returned from Iraq. I think of this song every time I hear a story about a man from Minnesota or Wisconsin not returning from the war. I really don't think it is a political statement on the war (except for the "Hollywood" line at the end) as much as a statement on the impact of a young life ended too early.

And, I can play that song on the bass guitar.

Peace,

Jeff