Thursday, July 9, 2009

Orphans on the Run

OrphansOnTheRun.ogg OrphansOnTheRun.mp3
Now, there's a secret associated with writing these songs and just recording them raw so they sound crappy and unfinished. I don't hear the crappy, unfinished song. In my head I hear the completed song with a all the proper instrumentation, with no flubs. Mostly, I record them so I don't forget them. But if somebody wants to do it right... cool.

Orphans on the Run is very old... we were not terribly long out of high school. I haven't played it in years, and was frankly a little surprised that I remembered it all. Besides being out of practice, this one's deceptively difficult to play, mostly because it's all rhythm, and it's fast, and it doesn't let up. I run out of air halfway through the verses for the same reason. Nevertheless, for a long time this was my favorite song; I don't think anybody else appreciates it much. I think the lyrics in the third verse (excluding chorus) is just fantastic.

The funny thing is, I have no idea what it's really about. None whatsoever. I asked William about it, and I'm not sure he knows, other than it was written on a Sunday morning. So I'm going to put it in a category with melted watches and other "WTF" artwork... you figure it out.



Orphans On the Run
William Hoover (1982)

It's early morning Sunday and out in the street
Are orphans on the run flying on their feet
To escape a crazed preacher man holding out a gun
Shooting up the street lights and worshiping the sun
So scared to be the one, chasing orphans on the run.
He's scared to be the one, chasing orphans on the run.

It's early autumn cold and the beggars huddle close
As needless tears unfold surely someone knows
These orphans on the run who struggle to survive
Now dying from what's done with some need to stay alive
Cold keepers having fun with their orphans on the run.
They're having lots of fun with their orphans on the run.

[chorus]
And it's cut the morning calf now hurry home
If not the waiting family may be gone
For it's life they seek and not the sun
Like those before have always done
Never to be chased like orphans on the run
On the run,
On the run,
On the run,
Orphans on the Run.


It's later now in winter still as season reaps this life
So proud so high on overkill lies picturesque in bloody white
This face which smiled seldom laughed, and lost to bitter months
Bears no permanent epitaph, reads though as caring once
Buried here no father's son, no orphans on the run.
Lies here no father's son, no orphans on the run.

[chorus]
And it's cut the morning calf now hurry home
If not the waiting family may be gone
For it's life they seek and not the sun
Like those before have always done
Never to be chased like orphans on the run
On the run,
On the run,
On the run,
Orphans on the Run.

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