Good morning all you lovely people! How have you been? I hope that life is taking good care of you. How about some music to kick off your Sunday? It’s time once again for Helen Vahdati’s Song Lyric Sunday which is brought to us by Jim Adams who has kindly taken on the job of providing us with a new prompt each week.
Good morning all you lovely people! How have you been? I hope that life is taking good care of you. How about some music to kick off your Sunday? It’s time once again for Helen Vahdati’s Song Lyric Sunday which is brought to us by Jim Adams who has kindly taken on the job of providing us with a new prompt each week. It’s a great way of discovering new music and finding new friends so, if you’d like to play along 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.
- 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.
At this point I’m going to say, if you don’t like bad language then don’t go any further because my choice for this week is a track by Eminem. This may seem like an odd choice for a 52 year old woman but I am actually a huge fan. Despite the fact that his language is atrocious I find his lyrics to be very clever and often quite moving. In this song he challenges the media promoted idea that rap is in any way responsible for gang violence.
However, he also talks a little about his own childhood and how he suffered after his Dad walked out on him and his mother, leaving them in poverty. Many people judge Eminem only for his profanity ridden lyrics and don’t realise what he went through to achieve his phenomenal success. Yes he was a drug addict, yes he’s the angriest of all the angry young men but, in my opinion, he is also a poet of considerable talent if you look past the F bombs:
“His house is a broken home, there’s no control, he just let’s his emotions go”
“In the land of the killers, a sinner’s mind is a sanctum”
“But music is reflection of self”
“That’s why we seize the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it and hold it”
The rap is interspersed with bursts of the chorus from the song ‘Sing for the Moment’ by Aerosmith which I also like and did think about posting but, honestly, I prefer the Eminem version because, for me, it’s more than a song. It’s a social commentary and it’s angry and dark and therefore, in my opinion, it’s interesting. I hope you’ll think so too.
These ideas are nightmares to white parents
Whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings
Like whatever they say has no bearing, it’s so scary in a house that allows no swearing
To see him walking around with his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, cold and he don’t care
He’s a problem child
What bothers him all comes out, when he talks about
His fuckin’ dad walkin’ out
‘Cause he just hates him so bad that he blocks him out
If he ever saw him again he’d probably knock him out
His thoughts are whacked, he’s mad so he’s talkin’ back
Talkin’ black, brainwashed from rock and rap
He sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking cap
His step-father hit him, so he socked him back, and broke his nose
His house is a broken home, there’s no control, he just let’s his emotions go…
(C’mon), sing with me, (sing), sing for the years
(Sing it), sing for the laughter, sing for the tears, (c’mon)
Sing it with me, just for today, maybe tomorrow the good Lord’ll take you away…
Entertainment is changin’, intertwinin’ with gangsters
In the land of the killers, a sinner’s mind is a sanctum
Holy or unholy, only have one homie
Only this gun, lonely ’cause don’t anyone know me
Yet everybody just feels like they can relate, I guess words are a motherfucker they can be great
Or they can degrade, or even worse they can teach hate
It’s like these kids hang on every single statement we make
Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum
Now how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen
From standin’ on corners and porches just rappin’
To havin’ a fortune, no more kissin’ ass
But then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorneys all want a turn at you
To get their hands on every dime you have, they want you to lose your mind every time you mad
So they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannon
Any dispute won’t hesitate to produce handguns
That’s why these prosecutors wanna convict me, strictly just to get me off of these streets quickly
But all they kids be listenin’ to me religiously, so I’m signin’ CDs while police fingerprint me
They’re for the judge’s daughter but his grudge is against me
If I’m such a fuckin’ menace, this shit doesn’t make sense Pete
It’s all political, if my music is literal, and I’m a criminal how the fuck can I raise a little girl
I couldn’t, I wouldn’t be fit to, you’re full of shit too, Guerrera, that was a fist that hit you…
They say music can alter moods and talk to you
Well can it load a gun up for you , and cock it too
Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude
Just tell the judge it was my fault and I’ll get sued
See what these kids do is hear about us totin’ pistols
And they want to get one ’cause they think the shit’s cool
Not knowin’ we really just protectin’ ourselves, we entertainers
Of course the shit’s affectin’ our sales, you ignoramus
But music is reflection of self, we just explain it, and then we get our cheques in the mail
It’s fucked up ain’t it
How we can come from practically nothing to being able to have any fuckin’ thing that we wanted
That’s why we sing for these kids, who don’t have a thing
Except for a dream, and a fuckin’ rap magazine
Who post pin-up pictures on their walls all day long
Idolize their favorite rappers and know all their songs
Or for anyone who’s ever been through shit in their lives
Till they sit and they cry at night wishin’ they’d die
Till they throw on a rap record and they sit, and they vibe
We’re nothin’ to you but we’re the fuckin’ shit in their eyes
That’s why we seize the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it and hold it
‘Cause we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they’ll admit it when we’re gone
Just let our spirits live on, through our lyrics that you hear in our songs and we can…