BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
The Storm
- (0.14 ish )
- A storm is a'brewing, we hear it a'blowing,
- But as yet, we have no way of a'knowing,
- From where it might stem, nor where it is head,
- Nor which way the river is flowing,
- All we get is the stench, of sickness and death,
- Half able to hear *crows [a'crowing]
- //*Is it Crows? Ravens? Known for being around death anyways... *
- As we're swept in the night, tops of waves oh so white,
- No strength left to keep up the rowing
- Yes we're swept in a tide, of terror and lies,
- With no strength to keep on with rowing.
- (Pause til 0.36 ish)
- So most will sit tight, despite the great height,
- Of the "water" that threatens their "boat".
- They'll fight and they'll gripe, take fright at the [sight, ]
- //*of the water,storm /of the war, death ,destruction of civilisation*
- Only think to keep *them*selves afloat (*INSTINCT MUSIC*)
- But instead I wonder, in the raging [thunder,]
- //*of waves/ of bombs,guns etc*
- Of the destruction of all that ever we knew,
- If this awful blunder, might cure the [hunger],
- //*floodwaters, generating food /death and destruction causing a huge drop in population *
- That til now posed such a great issue..?
- (speed increases)
- I mean what are we to do, if we can't get through,
- All the stupid shit our leaders, got us into?
- If you're fed fake news, [dopamine] and booze,
- //*Dopamine being the chemical released by the brain when addictive tendencies are fulfilled eating, social media, sex, drug use, T.v. honestly the list is exstensive... *
- Then of course you're not in, a fit state to choose..
- (small pause)
- Which sneaky little politician rules the roost.
- (Pause til 1.05 ish)
- So we few stay away, hoping maybe someday
- That we'll see the world somehow, come out ok,
- Those few that have strayed, from what seemed our fate
- Sit around a fire, trying to celebrate,
- Singing
- (Chorus)
- (Sort of slow/sung?)
- So sat by the river, we drink to the days,
- Not all that long gone, though it feels like an age,
- Trying oh so hard not to, remember the pain,
- Of that sweet little riverbed, where you now lay.
- (Fast, when beat changes til the gap)
- Cos the death came strong, when they dropped those bombs,
- Every town and city, that you could think of, Gone.
- And now those who survive, try to eke out our lives,
- Without thinking of all those we knew, who died,
- For no reason other than the "need" for more power,
- More wealth, more land, and more people to make cower,
- Your freedom's were the price for the things they devour, (ed)
- Yet WE allowed them to rule, despite their [Faulty Tower]
- //*'s Old British Comedy reference to most politicians being all bluster and rage, with no real outcome /also to the parliamentary buildings +Big Ben being the embodiment of Governmental power *
- (*Instinct Music*)
- (Sort of slow/sung?)
- So now we are left here, no others to blame,
- But ourselves, so we sit here, drink ing in the rain,
- Proclaiming our shame, for be ing so inane
- And how we lost the game, whilst try ing to chase fame......
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