Eve of Destruction [lo-fi acoustic cover]

Here is a decidedly lo-fi acoustic cover version of one of my all-time favorite songs I recently performed for a friend of mine. I figured I might as well share it with you as well.  It’s amazing how the lyrics to this song are as relevant today as they were back in 1965 when Barry Mcguire first wrote them.

 


Eve of Destruction – written by Barry Mcguire

“The eastern world, it is explodin’,
Violence flarin’, bullets loadin’,
You’re old enough to kill but not for votin’,
You don’t believe in war, but what’s that gun you’re totin’,
And even the Jordan river has bodies floatin’,
But you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Don’t you understand, what I’m trying to say?
And can’t you feel the fears I’m feeling today?
If the button is pushed, there’s no running away,
There’ll be no one to save with the world in a grave,
Take a look around you, boy, it’s bound to scare you, boy,
And you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Yeah, my blood’s so mad, feels like coagulatin’,
I’m sittin’ here, just contemplatin’,
I can’t twist the truth, it knows no regulation,
Handful of Senators don’t pass legislation,
And marches alone can’t bring integration,
When human respect is disintegratin’,
This whole crazy world is just too frustratin’,
And you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Think of all the hate there is in Red China!
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama!
Ah, you may leave here, for four days in space,
But when your return, it’s the same old place,
The poundin’ of the drums, the pride and disgrace,
You can bury your dead, but don’t leave a trace,
Hate your next door neighbor, but don’t forget to say grace,
And you tell me over and over and over and over again my friend,
You don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.”

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Blessed One (lyrics to song in progress)

don’t ever walk away
from a broken heart
when the clock strikes midnight

solaris silently seeps
into shadows

the fear forever lurks
underneath the stars
of a haunted light

i’ve seen the devil weep
in the gallows

all of our words exist
in a dusty cloud
awaiting strange attractors

for the chance to be heard
in the here and now
to justify our actions


but you
you are the blessed one

the view
impales the polaris sun


we watched the moon
give way to the ocean
amid a lost december

i can remember the taste
of your sorrowed tears

i held you in my arms
like a godless world succumbs
to celestial signals sublime

the fire that never dies
is burning deep within me
absconding into the night

the ire of wasted lives
it scolds like soldiers scorned
who were born for the right to die


but you
you are the goddess defined

will you
show me your heavenly signs

when truth
shines off the light of your eyes

then you
are blessed amongst the skies

[image credit: František Kobliha]

What She Said

I wrote this song for someone very close to me when their mother passed at a young age from a terminal condition. I’m not very adept at engineering sound so you’ll have to excuse the crude quality of the recording.

“train ticket to another world
but she don’t know where to go
the truth was something
that we did not know
oh tell me now

standing in the field one day
thoughts rolled through my head
and i remember something that she said

she told me that life’s a lie
she showed me the reason why
she showed me the other side of life

and as i heard what she said
as her words filled my head
i began to see where they led
but instead…

i remember looking back
on the things we used to do
back then when i was a kid
and she was still one too

she used to always say to me
that one day she would rise
never once stood back
to even try to realize

as i think and look back now
you know it makes me wonder how
she’d always stand outside in the rain

then i knew exactly why
said she’d never leave my side
then late one night she died
and i cried”

*EDIT – Bonus Angry Samoan’s cover

“no no no, i need a place to stay
no no no, i need another day

my soul is lost, it’s lost its way
it’s been living in this lost
this lost highway

the night gets darker now
i’m cold and all alone
i took a turn in this life somehow
i’ll never find my way back home

i don’t know
i can’t tell you, girl
what i’ve seen there

the demon spawn with bulging eyes
the devil living in disguise
he’s in this world, he’s here today
he’s been living in this lost
this lost highway”

Truth

once observed, though set in stone

bears nothing more than what is known

witness to that which shall remain

a silent captive of refrain

left unclaimed from whence was wrought

feigned and framed as though t’was naught

availed victim now put on trial

with guilt transposed of bold denial

the crimson press of waxen seal

behold the toll left unrevealed

responsibility eschewed

the mockery of known truth

Obscured Sediment In Dawn’s Exile

Shrouded by luminous quilt
In stolen hour of desert gloaming
Brash and bright as life would have us
Intertwined, we courted darkness

Stark was all that ruled our world
As we rued the daylight squander
Loathsome aurous sphere that seared
A porcelain demure transfixed

Etched embrace on umber shore
Neath peering Peridot mystique
We breached the siren’s song
Through passive glances temporal

Felled, you held this coiled carapace
Quelling wrath with vitreous hand
Hapless, I would soon succumb
Shunning lucid truth in youth

All that would bear consequence
Flourished in the fiery depths
Every moment flushed with fervent
Passions, sating flesh

The corridor of riparian quenching
Drenched, adrift the wayward isle
Once flowed freely of our wefting
Now as listless as its mooring

Obscured sediment in dawn’s exile

To Etch Unto Mirrors of Flesh

vibrations, energy
pulsating vermilion reveling in the void
indolent husks wrapping wired frame
housing the boundless hearth called home

yet we search for our worth
in silence obscured
voices unheard
notions absurd

feigning the faintest of feeling
to etch unto mirrors of flesh
at best, an elusive illusion
at worst, the tragedy of truth

the poles of perception persist
infinite shades of finite reality
clamoring to claim validation
in sovereign states of solitude

ensnared in silken shrouds
sewn of our own accord
the hands that bring forth our intention
have sown our reflection’s ire

it is here we conspire