Good morning one and all, I hope that you’ve had an amazing week! As is traditional for this particular day of the week, it’s time for Song Lyric Sunday which is brought to us by the Daddy of music prompts, Jim Adams. If you’ve never played along, why not make today your first time – it’s a great way to discover new music and meet new blogging friends.
Here are some rules for you:
- Post the lyrics to the song of your choice, whether it fits the theme or not.
- Please try to include the songwriter(s) – it’s a good idea to give credit where credit is due.
- Make sure you also credit the singer/band and if you desire you can provide a link to where you found the lyrics.
- Link to the YouTube video, or pull it into your post so others can listen to the song.
- Ping back to this post will eventually work, as long as you are being patient, but you can also place your link in the comments if you don’t like to wait.
- Read at least one other person’s blog, so we can all share new and fantastic music and create amazing new blogging friends in the process.
- Feel free to suggest future prompts.
- Have fun and enjoy the music.
And here is this week’s prompt which is a toughie – Dad/Father/Barbecue. Actually I just wrote that and the remembered this dark and twisted track by Morrissey:
You represent embarrassment and failure
And the father who must be killed
Is the blight upon your blighted life
And his might is his legal right
To ground you down
You just might find you’re fighting for your life
And the father who must be killed
Is a step farther but nonetheless
The way he chews his food
Rips right through your senses
And you, you know what you must do
So the stepchild ran with a knife to his sleeping frame
And slams it in his arms, his legs, his face, his neck and says
There’s a law against me now
With his dying breath, he grabs her hand
And he looks into her eyes
He says “I’m sorry” and he dies
With this broken voice I beseech you
The stepchild thought half pointing to the sky
No one to warn me
No hand to touch me
And no Bible-belters to mess with me
Mama don’t miss me
This death will complete me
“But where I go there will be no one to meet me
I know there will be no one to meet me”
But still the step-child press the knife to her throat
Half pointing to the sky
Just as mother-less birds fly high
Then so shall I
So shall I
So shall I
So shall I
So shall I