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War Prayer

by Jon Martin Anastasio

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1.
Something’s wrong and it’s getting worse, I ain’t gonna quote you chapter and verse, ‘cause you can see it every day on the TV news - Or in the paper Men of God doing time for their sins, Kids getting shot on the streets of the city Men who keep beatin’ and cheatin’ on the women they love – oxymorons! Some call Rush when they’re angry and mad, to ventilate the feelings they have About all those people that they just can’t stand – ‘Cause they’re different The bravery of the radio, be a regular caller that nobody knows, You can call anybody anything you choose – ‘Cause you’re anonymous. When I was young, they taught me to care About people who have less than their share But now, it seems, instead they’re teaching greed. My politics may be correct, but it’s making me an emotional wreck. I need a dose of fantasy – in a hurry! Chorus: Let’s go borrow the neighbors’ kids and rent a minivan, Drive 55 in the passing lane, all the way to Disneyland ‘Cause no one’s sleeping on the street in Michael Eisner’s town And the only vermin you can see wear gloves, and dance around with the kiddies I want to watch the Superbowl, call Home Shopping Network, Order some capodimonte figurines of Harpo Marx – or maybe Elvis Please, at least, let’s go out to the mall, Window shop where it’s climate-controlled Maybe we can buy a cellular phone – for a dollar! I want to drive a Chevrolet, like Jesus would if he was livin’ today Put a little sticker from the NRA – in the window Honey, please, have mercy on me, I’m an aging baby boomer with compassion fatigue. I need a fix of the American dream – in a hurry! Chorus
2.
Radio Man 02:57
You got everything you wanted, I hope you’re grateful. Your boys are running the show, and you set the table. I can’t wait to see the size of the price you pay When you have to account For the trail of hatred you’ve blazed. You look at the world and the people you see, Watch what they do and decide what it means. Then you make up a story, Where you play the good guy. Whatever it takes, and whoever gets hurt, You do what you have to, to come in first. I’m counting on being around When the tables get turned. Your buddies call up and repeat all the mud that you sling. And you’re laughing behind your hand, ‘cause they’ve bought the whole thing. The wreckage of so many lives lies at your feet, I find it amazing That your conscience allows you to sleep. You look at the world and the people you see, Watch what they do and decide what it means. Then you make up a story, Where you play the good guy. Why tell the truth when a lie will serve? You’re short on facts, but you’re long on nerve. I’m counting on being around When the tables get turned
3.
You keep asking me why I’m so distant, Thinking that it’s something you’ve done. It’s not that I don’t want to listen, My thoughts just have this tendency to run. I’m recalling winter days in Minnesota, Where the sun made rainbows in the crystals in the sky. Snow was like dust, it danced in circles, In the wind that drew the tears from my eyes. At least, that’s how I saw it at the moment. There was nothing deep inside to make me cry. Or maybe, that was it – there was nothing. My chances, like my days, were slipping by. If you only use your vision for the things that you can see You only get the life that your life has always been. Use the horizon as the limit of your sight, And you’ll never learn the reason for your life. And you’ll never take the chance to get it right. Coming home, I watched the dance back in the city There’s a play that runs each day upon the street. The price is your agreement to the glitter, So you can’t afford the truth of what you see. At least, I do believe I can’t afford it. If I stay, I know what life could soon become. I’ve told a bitter story far too often. Now, even I believe what I have sung. If you only use your vision for the things that you can see You only get the life that your life has always been. Use the horizon as the limit of your sight, And you’ll never learn the reason for your life. And you’ll never take the chance to get it right.
4.
War Prayer 04:27
A white and shining steeple, stark against the red and gold; Brilliant in the autumn sunshine, another Sunday born. The preacher takes the pulpit, holding on with both his hands, Speaks an invocation to begin his holy task. His eyes turn toward the camera, he can see the red light’s on. With power in his voice, he speaks a vision to the throng. Those who heed his words will see a righteous victory; Hellfire and damnation to those who disagree. Once, a lady lifted up her lamp beside the golden door. But now the people are confused, they’re beating plowshares into swords. It’s the pot where nothing melted, but the essence burned away. And in the image of their insolence, we find our God has been remade. A man appeared beside the preacher, how he got there wasn’t clear. He said: The God of all the people has listened to your prayer. You want the power of obedience over every living man, And that punishment be justified if given by your hand. Beware what you are asking – to be a partner to the Throne. If you recall, your God has said that vengeance is his own. If you would stand in judgment, well then you must first be judged. If God would have a partner, he must find a worthy one.” Then he walked away, the tape delay made it seem he wasn’t there. The people in their living rooms were completely unaware. And those within the studio – oops, I mean the church Assumed the man was crazy, and the minister resumed. Chorus In the ashes of our innocence, we find our God has been remade.
5.
Atlas 04:39
I saw your picture in the paper. It’s been a while, but you haven’t left my mind. One thought returns to me, over and over – You were far too young to die. Your face was ebony innocence, And your eyes were like diamonds in the sky. I think that if you’d been my son, I would never stop crying. I think about the hand upon the trigger, And I wonder – did he have the grace to pray? Was there a feeling for the life That ended far too soon that day? He was just another child, in warriors clothing, Hiding behind the colors on his chest. But I think, that if he’d been my son, I would never let him rest. Atlas had it easier than we do./ All he had to do was stand his ground. Holding up a planet that’s in balance / Doesn’t seem so hard right now. The sirens tore apart the buildings As they tried with all they had to save your life. But some things can’t be fixed that have broken, Like a mother’s heart, When someone takes her baby in the night. Atlas had it easier than we do./ All he had to do was stand his ground. Holding up a planet that’s in balance / Doesn’t seem so hard right now. And all the people in their houses, / In the city & suburbs miles away, They read about you in the paper, / Llke I did, the very next day. And they shook their heads in wonder, thinking “How can people do that to their own?” I wonder what you’d have to say to that / If we could bring you home.
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This Man 04:50
9.

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released January 1, 2004

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Jon Martin Anastasio Saint Johns, Florida

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