Tag Archives: Song

Lyrics as Poetry – Like an Inca

Even the most poetry averse person knows some poetry – in the form of song lyrics. This is a short series of Wednesday posts, taking us up to Xmas. Todays song is Neil Youngs Like an Inca. I love the opening lines of this song, and it’s on one of my favourite albums Trans:

Like an Inca

Said the condor to the preying mantis
“We’re gonna lose this place just like we lost Atlantis
Brother, we got to go sooner than you know”
The Gypsy told my fortune, she said that nothin’ showed

Well, who put the bomb on the sacred altar?
Why should we die if it comes our way?
And why should we care about a little button
Being pushed by someone we don’t even know?

Well, I wish I was an Aztec
Or a runner in Peru
I would build such beautiful buildings
To house the chosen few
Like an Inca from Peru
Like an Inca

If you want to get high, build a strong foundation
Sink those pylons deep now and reach for the sky
If you want to get lost in the jungle rhythm
Get down on the ground and pretend you’re swimmin’

If you want to put ice in the lava river
First you must climb, then you must stand and shiver
Brother we got to go sooner than you know
The Gypsy told my fortune, the Gypsy told my fortune
The Gypsy told my fortune, she said that nothing showed

Well, I wish I was an Aztec
Or a runner in Peru
I would build such beautiful buildings
To house the chosen few
Like an Inca from Peru
Like an Inca
Like an Inca
Like an Inca

Said the condor to the preying mantis
“We’re gonna lose this place just like we lost Atlantis
Brother, we got to go sooner than you know”
The Gypsy told my fortune, the Gypsy told my fortune
The Gypsy told my fortune, she said that nothin’ showed

Ah, who put the bomb on the sacred altar?
Why should we die if it comes our way?
Why should we care about a little button
Being pushed by someone we don’t even know?

Well, I wish I was an Aztec
Or a runner in Peru
I would build such beautiful buildings
To house the chosen few
Like an Inca from Peru
Like an Inca
Like an Inca

I feel sad, but I feel happy
As I’m coming back to home
There’s a bridge across the river
That I have to cross alone
Like a skipping rolling stone
Like an Inca

Songwriters: Neil Young

Like An Inca lyrics © O/B/O Capasso, Silver Fiddle, Words & Music A Div Of Big Deal Music LLC

Lyrics as Poetry 1

Even the most poetry averse person knows some poetry – in the form of song lyrics. I have long been mulling over sharing some songs that I particularly enjoy as poetry . So here I go!

This is planned to be the first in a short series, taking us up to Xmas. Todays song lyric is Bjorks Crystalline:

“Crystalline”

Underneath our feet
Crystals grow like plants
(Listen how they grow)
I’m blinded by the lights
(Listen how they grow)
In the core of the earth
(Listen how they glow)

Crystalline
Internal nebula
(Crystalline)
Rocks growing slow-mo
(Crystalline)
I conquer claustrophobia
(Crystalline)
And demand the light

We mimic the openness
Of the ones we love
Dovetail our generosity
Equalizes the flow
With our hearts
We chisel quartz
To reach love

Crystalline
Internal nebula
(Crystalline)
Rocks growing slow-mo
(Crystalline)
I conquer claustrophobia
(Crystalline)
And demand the light

Octagon, polygon
Pipes up an organ
Sonic branches
Murmuring drone
Crystallizing galaxies
Spread out like my fingers

Crystalline
Internal nebula
(Crystalline)
Rocks growing slow-mo
(Crystalline)
I conquer claustrophobia
(Crystalline)
And demand the light

Crystalline
Listen how they grow
Internal nebula
Crystalline
Listen how they glow
Rocks growing slow-mo
Crystalline
Listen how they grow
I conquer claustrophobia
Crystalline
Listen how they glow
And demand the light

It’s the sparkle you become
Conquer anxiety
Sparkle you become
Conquer anxiety

Sparkle you become
When you conquer anxiety
It’s the sparkle you become
When you conquer anxiety

Crystalline lyrics © Jora Eh

Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards

I posted a long time ago about the beuaty and poetry of many song lyrics.  Just appraciate the rhythm and effortless rhyme of the incomparable Billy Braggs ‘Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards’:

It may have been Camelot for Jack and Jacqueline
But on the Che Guevara highway filling up with gasoline
Fidel Castro’s brother spies a rich lady who’s crying
Over luxury’s disappointment
So he walks over and he’s trying
To sympathize with her but he thinks that he should warn her
That the Third World is just around the corner
In the Soviet Union a scientist is blinded
By the resumption of nuclear testing and he is reminded
That Dr. Robert Oppenheimer’s optimism fell
At the first hurdle
In the Cheese Pavilion and the only noise I hear
Is the sound of someone stacking chairs
And mopping up spilt beer
And someone asking questions and basking in the light
Of the fifteen fame filled minutes of the fanzine writer
Mixing pop and politics he asks me what the use is
I offer him embarrassment and my usual excuses
While looking down the corridor
Out to where the van is waiting
I’m looking for the great leap forwards
Jumble sales are organized
And pamphlets have been posted
Even after closing time there’s still parties to be hosted
You can be active with the activists
Or sleep in with the sleepers
While you’re waiting for the great leap forwards
One leap forward, two leaps back
Will politics get me the sack?
Here comes the future and you can’t run from it
If you’ve got a blacklist I want to be on it
It’s a mighty long way down rock ‘n roll
From Top of the Pops to drawing the dole
If no one seems to understand
Start your own revolution and cut out the middleman
In a perfect world we’d all sing in tune
But this is reality so give me some room
So join the struggle while you may
The revolution is just a tee shirt away
Waiting for the great leap forwards

by Billy Bragg

Songwriter: STEPHEN WILLIAM BRAGG
© Universal Music Publishing Group

I remember Pogo-ing and yelling the lyrics at many a Bragg gig…….

 

Orignal Video:

Updated lyrics and performance at

A song about nothing

Here’s a song about absolutely nothing:
It’s not about me,
Not about anyone else;
Not about love.
Not about being young,
Not about anything else either.

It came to me while I was asleep,
Riding along on my horse.
I don’t know exactly when I was born.
I’m not happy,
I’m not angry.
I’m not a stranger here…
I don’t belong here.

I can’t help being like this,
I was made like it by a fairy upon a mountaintop.
I don’t know if I’m asleep or awake
Unless someone tells me.
My heart’s almost broken,
It’s so sad…
And all this doesn’t matter a mouse to me.
I swear it, by St. Martial!

I love someone… I don’t know who she is
Because I’ve never seen her;
She hasn’t done anything to please me or to upset me
And I don’t care.
I’ve never seen her, but I love her truly.
She is not yet done what she should to me, or what she shouldn’t.
When I don’t see her, then I’m happy.
She’s not worth a cock to me
Because I know someone who’s gentler and prettier,
And richer as well…

I don’t know where she lives,
Whether up in the heights or down in the fields.
I daren’t tell you the wrongs she does me,
It hurts me too much
And it hurts me to stay here,
So I’m leaving!

I’ve made the poem. I don’t know what’s it about.
I’m going to send it to someone
Who’ll send it with someone else,
To someone over in Anjou:
Perhaps he’ll be able to send me the key from his little box
and unravel this riddle.

Guillaume IX, Duke of Aquitaine and VIIth Count of Poitiers
(22 October 1071 – 11 February 1127)

 

I recently wrote a poem about nothing, then realised what I had, in some form plagarised, although my poem is not as funny as this one.