Friday, September 11, 2009

As Yet Untitled*

























In a New York Minute, everything can - and did - change:

"Out by a shanty where the dust hangs high
Far from a river where things grow green
The flowers weep and they turn away
From the blood-stained soil beneath my feet

The thorns outnumber the pedals on the rose
And the darkness amplifies the sound
Of printer's ink on propaganda page
That will rule your life and fuel my rage

I tried to bend my knees but my knees were already bent
I haven't stood like a man for such a long time now
I cried to my god but he was sleeping on that day
I guess I'll just have to depend on me

Shall I tell my children if they ask of me
Did I surrender forth my right to be?
Y'see, my daddy died to leave this haunting ground
And this same ground still haunts me

The cool September blows the seeds away; the harvest blown again this year
But I'll return a stronger man...I'll return to me my homeland
No grave shall hold my body down
This land is still my home

I said
But I'll return a stronger man
I'll return to me my homeland
No grave shall hold my body down
This land is still my home
This land is still my home"

- Terence Trent D'Arby

I was originally going to post New York Minute here, but this song seems much more apropos, beyond the haunting mournfulness of it, consider it was written and published thirteen years before the 9-11 attacks happened...
It sounds like it could have been written right afterward!

*post title linked