(no subject)
Do you ever feel like you're walking through other peoples' lives and not really living your own? An old co-worker (he won an Emmy for a documentary he made on the Baltimore Homicide Unit while I was there) once said that Homicide detectives make their living invading the privacy of others. Of course, when someone tries to look into our own lives, we're more closed off than most. Maybe it's because we know too much--we see the raw, vulnerable looks on the faces of victims and families of victims every day and we have to separate ourselves from that. We are not our job, or at least we'd like to think so.
So we make jokes about the cause of death, we wisecrack over dead bodies. An hour ago, the guy was alive. Now? He's a punchline because we've got a dirty job, one that no one else wants to do and if we're going to survive, we've got to get our emotion out somewhere. So we drink too much, punch walls, or just make really bad (and yet, funny) jokes. Everyone is quick to judge--to call us callous, or uncaring or alcoholic or on-the-edge. But they don't really know, do they?
One more murder in this town
It don't mean a thing
Just lock your doors and drive around
One more murder in this town
Don't worry the rain'll wash the chalkmarks
From the ground
Saturday night
Shot ring out
Add one to
The body count
Home alive
To see another day
Plead it to a lesser count
DA says without a doubt
3 to 5, you're on the street again
One more murder in this town
Don't mean a thing, you get accustomed
To the sound
One more murder in this town
Just block off the street and wrap
the 'Crime Scene' Tape around
*Hosanna, hosanna!*
I can't feel a thing at all
*Hosanna, hosanna!*
I can't feel a thing
I can't feel a thing at all
I said I can't feel a thing!
Saturday night
You call them out
Parking lot
I think I'll come about
Feel the terrors
Trigger you to Hell
Plead and beg
For sympathy
"Take the car -- I got a family!"
Here alive
And only sentiment
One more murder
One more murder
One more murder in this town
In this town
Yeah Yeah, yeah, yeahhhh
So we make jokes about the cause of death, we wisecrack over dead bodies. An hour ago, the guy was alive. Now? He's a punchline because we've got a dirty job, one that no one else wants to do and if we're going to survive, we've got to get our emotion out somewhere. So we drink too much, punch walls, or just make really bad (and yet, funny) jokes. Everyone is quick to judge--to call us callous, or uncaring or alcoholic or on-the-edge. But they don't really know, do they?
One more murder in this town
It don't mean a thing
Just lock your doors and drive around
One more murder in this town
Don't worry the rain'll wash the chalkmarks
From the ground
Saturday night
Shot ring out
Add one to
The body count
Home alive
To see another day
Plead it to a lesser count
DA says without a doubt
3 to 5, you're on the street again
One more murder in this town
Don't mean a thing, you get accustomed
To the sound
One more murder in this town
Just block off the street and wrap
the 'Crime Scene' Tape around
*Hosanna, hosanna!*
I can't feel a thing at all
*Hosanna, hosanna!*
I can't feel a thing
I can't feel a thing at all
I said I can't feel a thing!
Saturday night
You call them out
Parking lot
I think I'll come about
Feel the terrors
Trigger you to Hell
Plead and beg
For sympathy
"Take the car -- I got a family!"
Here alive
And only sentiment
One more murder
One more murder
One more murder in this town
In this town
Yeah Yeah, yeah, yeahhhh