Here’s the most lyrically complex song I’ve written in a while. It’s all metaphor and World War One and TS Eliot’s The Wasteland. Below are the lyrics with the cliff’s notes. My voice is scratchy so if it sounds really strained, listen in a day and I’ll probably have put up a cleaner version.
(it should also go to note that these chords are by far the most aggressive I’ve done in a 4 chord song before. My hands have a hard time playing them. So that’s why the instrumental is eh)
Brother, friend, at Somme* and I, We’ll sing for you a haunting lullaby
And After hearing their last sighs, You’re forced to stare into their newly empty doll’s eyes
Unreal city under the brown fog**, TS Eliot can’t tell us who we are
Flowing down King William Street***, we’ll change the parties’ names just to be discrete
White knuckles around prism knives****, indifferent towards those you should despise
Stare into their pearly eyes*****, and now my brothers at somme are forever alive
Speak to me why do you never speak******, a sense of morality just means your will is weak
Rat alleys where the dead left bones,******* we don’t need our souls to return home
Hyper breaths between your spots, soon replaced by clearer thoughts
And as your pyramid blade* sings, Your body stays but your spirit leaves
Oh oh oh, that Shakespearian rag********, your ghost’s sins mirror Lady Macbeth*********
Oh oh oh what shall we ever do**********, when even country sides now lack a view
Confetti showers feel so cold, you’ll be forgotten until you’re old (you are told)
Scotch and whiskey will be your bread, while your wife leaves you for another man
Hurry up please, it’s time***********, I’ll leave my glass where you leave your wine
Good night ladies, sweet good night************, there’s just one generation before the next fight
Unaware of departed love************, wear memories like ill fitted gloves
Phlebas************* knew what once was formed, we came back alive but never returned
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*deadliest WWI battle you may have known that
**TS Eliot- The Wasteland lns 207-208
***ibid- ln 66
**** WWI issued daggers were prism shaped. The triangle was more difficult to suture.
*****- “those are pearls that were his eyes”- TS Eliot, The Wastland, ln 125
******ibid ln 112
*******”I think we are in rats’ alley/ Where the dead men lost their bones.” ibid lns 115-116
********ibid 128
*********yada yada, Lady Macbeth dies but had no qualms about killing. Ghost that likes killing people that’s the sin, yeah, yada.
********** “What shall I do now? What shall I do?” Eliot, 132
***********Appears in capital letters throughout The Wasteland. In this case interpreted as a last call from a bartender
************ibid, ln 172
*************ibid 250
**************Phlebas the Phoenician, a character who drowned as described in the poem.
