(no subject)
Listening to some 80’s music tonight. It does take me back to a time that was not real to me. Music has a way of telling the tale of the ages. Each decade that passed, the music and its style change, almost predicting the future of the people of the earth. Through this music I hear much that I remember of that time. Glimpse of the past.
I had posed a question on the forum of what memories a certain song or music brought about. I was delightfully surprised as to the results. Many very candidly shared some memories that were happy, and some that I know must have brought pain in the remembrance. I realized that I myself didn’t given an answer. I suppose old habits die hard. As a reporter I was the one who asked the questions, it was never for me to answer. It was my job to bring to life the secret lives of those I talked with, while I, blissfully stayed the anonymous listener. Then since I’m no longer a reporter, and there seems to be a few that have a genuine interest in knowing about me. It’s only fair that I answer.
The following is a song that brings to memory the beginning to the end of my life.
I can't believe the news today
I can't close my eyes and make it go away.
How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long, how long?
'Cos tonight
We can be as one, tonight.
Broken bottles under children's feet
Bodies strewn across the dead-end street.
But I won't heed the battle call
It puts my back up, puts my back up against the wall.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Oh, let's go.
And the battle's just begun
There's many lost, but tell me who has won?
The trenches dug within our hearts
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters
Torn apart.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long, how long?
'Cos tonight
We can be as one, tonight.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Wipe the tears from your eyes
Wipe your tears away.
I'll wipe your tears away.
I'll wipe your tears away.
I'll wipe your bloodshot eyes.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
And it's true we are immune
When fact is fiction and TV reality.
And today the millions cry
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die.
The real battle just begun
To claim the victory Jesus won
On...
Sunday, bloody Sunday
Sunday, bloody Sunday..
I had posed a question on the forum of what memories a certain song or music brought about. I was delightfully surprised as to the results. Many very candidly shared some memories that were happy, and some that I know must have brought pain in the remembrance. I realized that I myself didn’t given an answer. I suppose old habits die hard. As a reporter I was the one who asked the questions, it was never for me to answer. It was my job to bring to life the secret lives of those I talked with, while I, blissfully stayed the anonymous listener. Then since I’m no longer a reporter, and there seems to be a few that have a genuine interest in knowing about me. It’s only fair that I answer.
The following is a song that brings to memory the beginning to the end of my life.
I can't believe the news today
I can't close my eyes and make it go away.
How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long, how long?
'Cos tonight
We can be as one, tonight.
Broken bottles under children's feet
Bodies strewn across the dead-end street.
But I won't heed the battle call
It puts my back up, puts my back up against the wall.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Oh, let's go.
And the battle's just begun
There's many lost, but tell me who has won?
The trenches dug within our hearts
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters
Torn apart.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long, how long?
'Cos tonight
We can be as one, tonight.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Wipe the tears from your eyes
Wipe your tears away.
I'll wipe your tears away.
I'll wipe your tears away.
I'll wipe your bloodshot eyes.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
And it's true we are immune
When fact is fiction and TV reality.
And today the millions cry
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die.
The real battle just begun
To claim the victory Jesus won
On...
Sunday, bloody Sunday
Sunday, bloody Sunday..