Fiddler’s Green

This song’s been playing in my head today. Thought I’d share.

If it was just one slain child, today’s events would still be an obscenity.

September seventeen
For a girl I know it’s Mother’s Day
Her son has gone alee
And that’s where he will stay
The wind on the weathervane
Tearing blue eyes sailor mean
As Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain
For a boy in Fiddler’s Green

His tiny knotted heart
Well, I guess it never worked to good
The timber tore apart
And the water gorged the wood
You can hear her whispered prayer
For men at masts that always lean
The same wind that moves her hair
Moves her boy through Fiddler’s Green

Nothing’s changed anyway
Nothing’s changed anyway
Any time today

He doesn’t know a soul
There’s nowhere that he’s really been
But he won’t travel long alone
No, not in Fiddler’s Green
Balloons all filled with rain
As children’s eyes turn sleepy mean
And Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain
For a boy in Fiddler’s Green

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  • Victor_the_Crab

    I bought that CD when it came out in ’91.

    Three Pistols is what I love about that album.

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9B6ZLM7yK8c

  • Lazarus Durden

    Nah man. After Aurora I changed, but not like today. Today I was on FB arguing for gun control. I saw all the same arguments I used to make from other people and I thought “Jesus these are really fucking stupid.” And I used to make them. Not anymore.

    I can’t be alone in this. I can’t be the only one. We need to have a conversation about this. We can’t just keep on keepin’ on. Not this time.

    • http://www.politicalruminations.com/ nicole

      “We need to have a conversation about this. We can’t just keep on keepin’ on. Not this time. ”

      Yes we do need to do something about this. It’s enough already.

  • muselet

    Charlie Pierce thinks W.B. Yeats’s “The Stolen Child” best sums up today:

    WHERE dips the rocky highland
    Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
    There lies a leafy island
    Where flapping herons wake
    The drowsy water rats;
    There we’ve hid our faery vats,
    Full of berrys
    And of reddest stolen cherries.
    Come away, O human child!
    To the waters and the wild
    With a faery, hand in hand,
    For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.

    Where the wave of moonlight glosses
    The dim gray sands with light,
    Far off by furthest Rosses
    We foot it all the night,
    Weaving olden dances
    Mingling hands and mingling glances
    Till the moon has taken flight;
    To and fro we leap
    And chase the frothy bubbles,
    While the world is full of troubles
    And anxious in its sleep.
    Come away, O human child!
    To the waters and the wild
    With a faery, hand in hand,
    For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.

    Where the wandering water gushes
    From the hills above Glen-Car,
    In pools among the rushes
    That scarce could bathe a star,
    We seek for slumbering trout
    And whispering in their ears
    Give them unquiet dreams;
    Leaning softly out
    From ferns that drop their tears
    Over the young streams.
    Come away, O human child!
    To the waters and the wild
    With a faery, hand in hand,
    For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.

    Away with us he’s going,
    The solemn-eyed:
    He’ll hear no more the lowing
    Of the calves on the warm hillside
    Or the kettle on the hob
    Sing peace into his breast,
    Or see the brown mice bob
    Round and round the oatmeal chest.
    For he comes, the human child,
    To the waters and the wild
    With a faery, hand in hand,
    For the world’s more full of weeping than he can understand.

    –alopecia

    • http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1583135820 Amy Stone

      Thank you for that, as tears stream down my face…