July 18, 2012

Where Have You Been, My Blue Eyed Son?

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?


I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded with hatred
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one?
I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’
I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’
But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Posted by gerardvanderleun at July 18, 2012 1:43 AM
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"It is impossible to speak in such a way that you cannot be misunderstood." -- Karl Popper N.B.: Comments are moderated and may not appear immediately. Comments that exceed the obscenity or stupidity limits will be either edited or expunged.

Hope you felt the prayers I was prayin'this morning, very early and 2000 miles away. Hope they weren't needed.

Posted by: Joan of Argghh at July 18, 2012 4:26 AM

I did indeed. Prayers are always needed.

Posted by: vanderleun at July 18, 2012 7:17 AM

I said a few myself...said to my husband, "I hope Vanderleun is alright.

Posted by: Leslie at July 18, 2012 8:00 AM

Well, that answers the two questions I had on the sidebar: You continue to be, and you aren't vacationing in Hell. Other than that, how's the weather, Gerard?

Posted by: Jewel at July 18, 2012 8:18 AM

I'm glad you posted. I was becoming concerned. Losing John J. Reilly was bad enough.

Take care of yourself.

Posted by: B Lewis at July 18, 2012 8:41 AM

I was worried too Gerard. But I am worried a lot of late and did not want to contact you and spread my fears.

The sun is shining today!

Posted by: Terry at July 18, 2012 8:53 AM

Okay - now you are back and now I can stop worrying.

Jim

Posted by: southernjames at July 18, 2012 9:09 AM

Whew.... Said a prayer for you Gerard.

You have turned us all into liberals... We have all become dependent upon the largess of your prose and intellect.

God Bless you and keep up the hard work..

Posted by: Bill Henry at July 18, 2012 9:38 AM

I am deeply touched and moved by these comments and all those in email.

Thank you all once again.

Posted by: vanderleun at July 18, 2012 11:08 AM

Just yesterday I began to feel some concern about you, though I chalked it up to probable exhaustion brought on by diminished heart capacity

Now let me go on on something snarky so your head doesn't get completely turned. I'm going to parody this Dylan song; it's going to be my magnum opus. I got one stanza down already

Oh what have you seen, my patriot son
And what have you seem my loyal young one
I've seen one trillion bucks disappear in a rathole
I saw an American Chief bow down like a butler
I saw an old vet protest and they called him a Nazi
I saw American AKs in the hands of drug dealers
I saw 90,000 in debt put on the backs of our children
I saw a shovel ready project where no one was digging
I saw Congress and White house defy the will of the people
And it's a tard's; it's a tard's; it's a tard's it's a tard's
It's a tard's reign's a-gonna fall

Posted by: Callmelennie at July 18, 2012 2:32 PM

Out of the park, Calimelennie.

Posted by: Neill at July 19, 2012 5:41 AM

I was sure G was alright, although I must confess to some white knuckles.
I've seen Bob 3 times. 76, 85 (or 86, my drunken years, dunno), 08. Just amazing what he does. He never reinvents himself. He forces you to reinvent yourself. He pisses upon your expectations. I kinda like that.

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