What are you listening to?

A couple here from Bruce Cockburn - the first is called Silver Wheels:

[Verse 1]
High speed drift on a prairie road
Hot tires sing like a string being bowed
Sudden town rears up then explodes
Fragments resolve into white line code

[Refrain]
Whirl on silver wheels

[Verse 2]
Black earth energy receptor fields
Undulate under a grey cloud shield
We outrun a river colour brick red mud
That cleaves apart hills soil rich as blood

[Refrain]
Whirl on silver wheels

[Verse 3]
Highway squeeze in construction steam
Stop caution hard hat yellow insect machines
Silver steel towers stalk rolling land
Toward distant stacks that shout "Feed on demand"

[Refrain]
Whirl on silver wheels
Whirl on silver wheels

[Verse 4]
A hundred miles later the sky has changed
Urban anticipation—we get four lanes
Red orange furnace sphere notches down
Throws up silhouette skyline in brown

[Refrain]
Whirl on silver wheels

[Verse 5]
Sundogs flare on windshield glass
Sudden swoop skyward iron horse overpass
Pass a man walking like the man in the moon
Walking like his head's full of Irish fiddle tunes

[Refrain]
Whirl on silver wheels

[Verse 6]
The skin around every city looks the same
Miles of flat neon spelling well-known names
USED TRUCKS — DIRTY DONUTS — YOU YOU'RE THE ONE
Fat wheeled cars squeal into the sun

[Refrain]
Whirl on silver wheels

[Verse 7]
Radio speakers gargle top forty trash
Muzak soundtrack to slow collapse
Planet engines pulsate in sidereal time
If you listen close you can hear the whine

[Refrain]
Whirl on silver wheels
Whirl on silver wheels


The second one is called - Call It Democracy (a song about the IMF):

[Verse 1]
Padded with power here they come
International loan sharks backed by the guns
Of market hungry military profiteers
Whose word is a swamp and whose brow is smeared
With the blood of the poor

[Verse 2]
Who rob life of its quality
Who render rage a necessity
By turning countries into labour camps
Modern slavers in drag as champions of freedom

[Verse 3]
Sinister cynical instrument
Who makes the gun into a sacrament—
The only response to the deification
Of tyranny by so-called "developed" nations'
Idolatry of ideology

[Verse 4]
North south east west
Kill the best and buy the rest
You don't really give a flying fuck
About the people in misery

[Bridge]

[Verse 5]
You see the paid-off local bottom feeders
Passing themselves off as leaders
Kiss the ladies shake hands with the fellows
And it's open for business like a cheap bordello

[Chorus]
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy

[Verse 6]
You see the loaded eyes of the children too
Trying to make the best of it the way kids do
One day you're gonna rise from your habitual feast
To find yourself staring down the throat of the beast
They call the revolution

[Bridge]
IMF dirty MF
Takes away everything it can get
Always making certain that there's one thing left
Keep them on the hook with insupportable debt

[Chorus]
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy

 
Turgon said:
Click to expand...

The lyrics of this song are really hard-hitting:
I've been sellin' my soul, workin' all day
Overtime hours for bullshit pay
So I can sit out here and waste my life away
Drag back home and drown my troubles away

It's a damn shame what the world's gotten to
For people like me and people like you
Wish I could just wake up and it not be true
But it is, oh, it is

Livin' in the new world
With an old soul
These rich men north of Richmond
Lord knows they all just wanna have total control
Wanna know what you think, wanna know what you do
And they don't think you know, but I know that you do
'Cause your dollar ain't shit and it's taxed to no end
'Cause of rich men north of Richmond

I wish politicians would look out for miners
And not just minors on an island somewhere
Lord, we got folks in the street, ain't got nothin' to eat
And the obese milkin' welfare

Well, God, if you're 5-foot-3 and you're 300 pounds
Taxes ought not to pay for your bags of fudge rounds
Young men are puttin' themselves six feet in the ground
'Cause all this damn country does is keep on kickin' them down

Lord, it's a damn shame what the world's gotten to
For people like me and people like you
Wish I could just wake up and it not be true
But it is, oh, it is

Livin' in the new world
With an old soul
These rich men north of Richmond
Lord knows they all just wanna have total control
Wanna know what you think, wanna know what you do
And they don't think you know, but I know that you do
'Cause your dollar ain't shit and it's taxed to no end
'Cause of rich men north of Richmond

I've been sellin' my soul, workin' all day
Overtime hours for bullshit pay
Click to expand...

What's really funny is that on Google when you search the lyrics the website itself produces the lyrics, but misspells "minors on an island somewhere" as "miners," even though pretty much none of the websites make that typo. :rolleyes:
 
A group of us were sitting around and singing some older songs last night and this tune came up. It has a very simple but beautiful melody that has stood the test of time.

"Wild Mountain Thyme" is a traditional Scottish/Irish folk song that's been around since the late 1700s, whose melody and lyrics are a variant of the song "The Braes of Balquhither" by Scottish poet Robert Tannahill, and first recorded by Belfast musician Francis McPeake and his family in the 1950s.

It has been covered by many popular musicians over the years including Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, Glenn Frey (of the Eagles), Mark Knopfler, Rod Stewart and most recently Ed Sheeran.

This particular cover version (named "Blooming Heather" here) is one by Kate Rusby, a singer-songwriter out of Yorkshire, which contains a nice male harmony part coming in around the 3 minute mark.


Wild Mountain Thyme - Wikipedia

en.wikipedia.org en.wikipedia.org

In her book Fragrance and Wellbeing: Plant Aromatics and Their Influence on the Psyche, author Jennifer Peace Rhind describes "Wild Mountain Thyme" as essentially a love song, with the line, "Wild Mountain Thyme grows among the Scottish heather" perhaps being an indirect reference to the old custom of young women wearing a sprig of thyme, mint or lavender to attract a suitor. Rhind also notes that, in British folklore, the thyme plant was the fairies' playground and often the herb would be left undisturbed for their use.
Click to expand...
 
R.I.P. Gary Wright (April 26, 1943 – September 4, 2023)
Gary Wright - "Dream Weaver"


I've just closed my eyes again
Climbed aboard the dream weaver train
Driver, take away my worries of today
And leave tomorrow behind

Ooh, dream weaver
I believe you can get me through the night
Ooh, dream weaver
I believe we can reach the morning light

Fly me high through the starry skies
Maybe to an astral plane
Cross the highways of fantasy
Help me to forget today's pain

Ooh, dream weaver
I believe you can get me through the night
Ooh, dream weaver
I believe we can reach the morning light

Though the dawn may be coming soon
There still may be some time
Fly me away to the bright side of the moon
And meet me on the other side

Ooh, dream weaver
I believe you can get me through the night
Ooh, dream weaver
I believe we can reach the morning light
Dream weaver
Dream weaver
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Trending content

Back
Top Bottom