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The Original
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@wilfkell
wilf@wilfkelleherjones.co.uk
MORESONGS
We sit on our hands
We sit on our hands
As the sarin falls
And the napalm burns
We sit on our hands
We sit on our hands
And we never learn
No we never learn
The pilot’s looking for a target
A suitable crowd
And any will do
But there’s none to be found
No riots, no squadrons
No protests of fools
Just a gaggle of children
By the gates of a school
“It’s a school for insurgents”
That’s easy to tell
They sing different prayers
- so he sends them to hell
We sit on our hands
We sit on our hands
As the sarin falls
And the napalm burns
We sit on our hands
We sit on our hands
And we never learn
No we never learn
The order to strike
Comes right down the line
To the men with their launchers
All ready to prime
And it’s no sort of crime
To kill their own people
If they claim it’s a war
A defence against evil
So they set up their sights
On a new part of town
Where the schools are still standing
- they’ll soon have them down
We sit on our hands
We sit on our hands
As the sarin falls
And the napalm burns
We sit on our hands
We sit on our hands
And we never learn
No we never learn
And we sit on our hands
As the arguments fly
And the bloodbath of proof
Is rejected as lies
And we sit on our hands
‘cause we know that we’re right
To condemn all the killing
Stay out of the fight
We sit on our hands
We sit on our hands
We sit on our hands
The day may soon come
When the truth comes to call
But our hands will be too numb
To do anything at all.
Do you know what, I think it is really easy to figure out exactly when we need to step in and do something - it’s when they start killing children on purpose.
Three years on and look at where we are now.
“Fly to my throne, you Ravens Two,
Bring to my ears your news of the world,
For I have been sleeping these hundreds of years
But nothing of this age have my dreams revealed.”
Huginn and Muninn first flew to the South
Through a sky full of dragons with people inside
And thick over land, on rivers of tar,
A million metal beasts that run wide and far.
“It’s transport, it’s travel,” our Huginn cries
“It’s engines, it’s petrol, and paths through the skies;
So much that is new, so much to be seen,
So much to reveal to Lord Odin’s eyes.”
But Muninn remembered adventurers old
And merchants awander in search of bright gold;
“When a man’s set to travel, he’ll soon find a way…
Oh I look at the world with the eyes of a sage,
While everything’s new, know that nothing has changed.”
Huginn and Muninn then flew to the West:
Saw families and friends, in cities and towns,
Talking with each other though miles stood between,
All listening and watching their flickering screens.
“It’s drama, it’s music,” our Huginn cries,
“It’s songs and it’s news, it’s truth and it’s lies,
So much to be done, so much to be seen,
So much to reveal to Lord Odin’s eyes.”
But Muninn remembered the days of the bards,
The laughter and weeping at tales that were heard,
“If there’s songs to be sung, they come best from a mouth…
I look at this world with the eyes of a sage,
While everything’s new, know that nothing is changed.”
Huginn and Muninn now flew to the east:
They hear people calling for freedom of speech,
With texting and twitter and protests online,
All sure there’s a future much better in reach.
“It’s life and it’s liberty,” Huginn now cries,
“Not prisons, nor torture, nor government spies,
So much to be gained, bright days to be seen,
So much to reveal to Lord Odin’s eyes.”
But Muninn remembered the days of their youth
When all men were bound to their Lords, and the earth,
Though they cried out for our freedom to the moon and the skies…
“Oh, I look at this world with the eyes of my age,
It seems like it or not, precious little has changed.”
Weary Huginn and Muninn returned to the North,
Past factories beating out weapons of war,
Where for chemical agents, and waste to enrich,
There’s a nitro’ bomb peace prize to nail to your door.
“It’s systems, it’s missiles,” our Huginn cries,
“It’s clustered explosions, it’s drones in the skies;
Such technical prowess, such clinical strikes,
So much to reveal to Lord Odin’s eyes.”
But Muninn recoils at the blood that is spilled;
“By sword or by sarin, people are killed,
No matter the science, children still die…
Oh I weep to witness this terrible age,
Where so much is new, but no, nothing has changed.”
Lord Odin now stirs on his mighty throne,
Huginn at his right ear, Muninn on the left.
“For all I have heard, from all you have seen,
My mind is in turmoil, I’ll back to my dreams.
No matter the progress, no matter the game,
Whatever the age, men’s deeds are the same;
So till everything’s changed, and everything’s new
Go back to your library, my Raven’s Two.
Till everything’s changed, and everything’s new
Fly back to your library, my Raven’s Two.
© wilf jones 2014
This is the draft of an effort destined, I feel sure, for a Rattlebag performance at the local folk club.
Nearly got the melody line sorted - now I just need to convince my Rattlebag partner that it’ll be worth the rehearsal time.
If you’re wondering about Huginn and Muninn:
Before Odin gained all wisdom and knowledge through his trials on Yggdrasil, the world tree, H&M were his way of keeping up with the affairs of the world. Internet with feathers. Each day they’d fly across the known world and bring their stories to the throne. Huginn is Thought - analytical, quick to understand how and why; Muninn is Memory - determined to understand meaning. To put it briefly.
@wilfkell