Prophet-rock response to this anxious moment in Jewish history, where echoes of ancient stories mix with a digital media dream world, and the difficulty, on a sea of connectivity, in finding solid ground. Lyrics provided.
Lyrics
Cross-checking beliefs in a cathedral of facts
a Library of Congress where I browse in the stacks
the smile on my plaster of Paris death mask cracks
as I prepare for my imminent sea voyage.
I’ve got my childhood fables and my undergraduate classes
my rose-coloured specs and my dark sunglasses
my DNA lottery and a couple of family passes;
Like my ancestors, I’ll be traveling steerage.
Momma’s down in Florida, with the Elders of the Jews
Papa’s gone to heaven, what endures is what we choose
I’m in trouble with the lifeboat blues
So I finish my last supper, take a final coffee sip
and go meet my brother Jonah, on the gangway to the ship.
He’s got a Nineveh assignment, but he’s giving God the slip
He says that prophecy’s a job that’s futile.
On board strong signals echo back from the sonar of the past
triggered by a Leviathan which blows with a ram horn blast
and watched on screens by sailors whose bucks they’d rather pass;
Relax: it’s just some nuclear theocratic missile.
Momma’s down in Florida, with the Elders of the Jews
Papa’s gone to heaven, what endures is what we choose
I’m in trouble with the lifeboat blues
Anointed victims are the heroes, collective power costs a price
In the Jawbone Chambers Goliath vetoes his existence right
So Samson is pilloried at the Temple of Human Rights
While the Walrus does selective weeping.
The hope that it will all work out is a pretty thin reed
but a basket in the bulrushes is all the boat we need
the vessel of our hope sets out on a wine dark Trojan sea
and I’m with Yonah, below decks, sleeping.
Momma’s down in Florida, with the Elders of the Jews
Papa’s gone to heaven, what endures is what we choose
I’m in trouble with the lifeboat blues
Yonah’s task-avoiding Nineveh, between Tel Aviv and Tyre
while the perfect storm at sea drives the wind and water higher
sailors worry about drowning, me and Yonah about fire
that might rain down on his brown-eyed sons and daughters.
British jobs for British men, there’s sulphur in the air
and CO2 and UV rays and dirty underwear
with the whole world doing laundry in the naked public square
And the runoff through the wires we drink like water.
Momma’s down in Florida, with the Elders of the Jews
Papa’s gone to heaven, what endures is what we choose
I’m in trouble with the lifeboat blues
I go to wake up Yonah, say its time to jump the ship
to get swallowed by the whale, and have our magical mystery trip;
But Yonah’s watching YouTube, and a pretty funny clip
About our stowaways, who’ve come to watch the whaling:
There’s the self-hating narcissist, who can’t look in the mirror;
And the vegan with the silver spoon who eats soydogs and beer;
And the front car rollercoaster guy, who thinks he gets to steer;
And the Captain, who has a fear of sailing;
Momma’s down in Florida, with the Elders of the Jews
Papa’s gone to heaven, what endures is what we choose
I’m in trouble with the lifeboat blues
The storm is growing worse, sailors fearing for their lives
the Captain says draw lots, to choose the Ship of Fools’ fall guy
It all comes down to numbers, and the vote comes to a tie;
Then the Chair of Blaming tables a new motion.
The sister of the PM’s wife takes the fundamentalists’ side
and the Light sheep among nations is darkly vilified;
the ship risks being stranded by history’s riptide
so me and Yonah walk the plank into the ocean.
Momma’s down in Florida, with the Elders of the Jews
Papa’s gone to heaven, what endures is what we choose
I’m in trouble with the lifeboat blues
We’re swallowed by the whale; grief counselors say: it’s not that bad;
in the belly of the beast we meet Pinocchio’s mortal Dad
Then Yonah’s special pleadings get us spit out near Baghdad;
Yonah goes on off to deliver up his warning.
Some time later I meet Yonah, in the shadow of a Gourd
at least Nineveh was spared, seems Yonah’s warnings struck a chord But now Yonah’s really ticked off, his ox it was gored
‘cuz since the bad things didn’t happen (yet), there’s scorning.
Momma’s down in Florida, with the Elders of the Jews
Papa’s gone to heaven, what endures is what we choose
I’m in trouble with the lifeboat blues
My sleep these nights are troubled, and freighted with dreams
Not every seaborne cargo is as solid as it seems
and the paperless office has generated reams
of emails, novels, images and soundbites.
Serpent of anxiety wraps its body round my Tree
and hissing like an air leak, gives out advice for free;
the Snake bites my Achilles heel, I’m foundering at Sea;
Then I wake, and hear the morning newsbites.
Momma’s down in Florida, with the Elders of the Jews
Papa’s gone to heaven, what endures is what we choose
I’m in trouble with the lifeboat blues
I syncopate anxieties, I harmonize my fears
with a fish eye view of history that my third eye hears
navigate my way between Eve and Britney Spears
Face a toppled temple in the heart of the global village.
We didn’t steal fire, our God gave it as a gift;
we got kicked out of Eden, but then He offered us a lift
with Light from Sparks from Flint Stones
and a three-score ten-year shift
bedecked with fig leaves from the Tree of Knowledge.
Momma’s down in Florida, with the Elders of the Jews
Papa’s gone to heaven, what endures is what we choose
I’m in trouble with the lifeboat blues.
eBenBrandeis
090412
