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Them And Us

by Chuck Brodsky

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1.
Them And Us 05:59
There’s a standoff all across the great divide With friends and family members on both sides If someone struck a match it would combust Scorching everyone, both Them and Us It’s raining dirty words and disrespect It’s not having any positive effect The bridges have collapsed because of rust We can’t reach each other, Them and Us We’ve got our earplugs in and our blinders on And we wonder where have all the flowers gone Where once there was a garden cool and lush All that’s left here now is Them and Us And I’ve never felt so lonely in this world As I do when all the banners are unfurled And the airwaves are just spewing all that stuff About Us and Them, look what it’s done to us Our differences are few but overblown And it sometimes leads to punches being thrown There seems to be a few things to discuss But you can’t say a word to Them or Us We write them off because of how they vote We write them off ‘cause they came on a boat We turn our backs with contempt and with disgust At every one of Them who isn’t Us We identify them by the clothes they wear We identify them by their skin and hair And we look for any reason not to trust Whatever about Them is not like Us And I’ve never felt so lonely in this world As I do when all the banners are unfurled And the airwaves are just spewing all that stuff About Us and Them, look what it’s done to us Thoughtful, decent people turning mean If only all our gods could intervene There must be some controls they could adjust Maybe they could make us whole, Them and Us And I’ve never felt so lonely in this world As I do when all the banners are unfurled And the airwaves are just spewing all that stuff About Us and Them, look what it’s done to us
2.
The godless ones were moving east And we were turned in by a priest Rounded up with all the rest The cattle cars from there went west It was my precious violin When we arrived that saved my skin The audition I would pass that day The Wagner I dared not misplay My violin would save my life As well my daughter and my wife They’d summon me to come and play I’d close my eyes and go halfway They were so merry and so gay Who danced by night and killed by day They’d give me little scraps of food Sometimes when they were in the mood I'd draw my bow and they would sway They had no orders to obey The officers, their wives and whores Drinking their cognacs and their liqueurs They craned their necks and strained their ears I don’t know where they found the tears Maybe some place back in Berlin Sometimes I slipped some Mahler in My violin would play itself While I’d escape to some place else My shattered mind would limp away To Warsaw in the month of May Conducting in the concert hall I would not see the things I saw I’d hear the woodwinds and the strings I’d tune out all the other things I'd draw my bow and they would sway They had no orders to obey The officers, their wives and whores Drinking their cognacs and their liqueurs They craned their necks and strained their ears I don’t know where they found the tears Maybe some place back in Berlin Sometimes I slipped some Mahler in The band would start to play at dawn Until the work crews had all gone When they returned we’d play some more And in between we did our chores We weren’t there to entertain The people stepping off the trains We played when we were told to play We’d stop when they’d say, “Go away” I'd draw my bow and they would sway They had no orders to obey The officers, their wives and whores Drinking their cognacs and their liqueurs They craned their necks and strained their ears I don’t know where they found the tears Maybe some place back in Berlin Sometimes I slipped some Mahler in
3.
Me and my supremacist friends We’re only doing what G-d intends Burning crosses, burning mosques Vandalizing synagogues We’re the patriotic sons With our semi-automatic guns Prepping for a civil war To make things like they was before Me and my supremacist clan This is how we take our stand Underneath a nazi flag Marching right up the main drag Past the church and past the school Where they teach the Golden Rule Where the children play outside When we go by they run and hide The secret handshake makes you kin At the door it gets you in It’s how we tell a friend from foe It’s something only we would know Me and my supremacist bud Stir each other’s thirst for blood Getting drunker by the hour Mixing things that all taste sour Until we can’t control the rage Any excuse to open the cage It can not stay inside the house The beast is foaming at the mouth My and my supremacist dad One time beat a foreigner bad He was somewhere he shouldn’t have been He shouldn’t have been with his color skin And after daddy kicked his ass We left him lying in the grass I got some of my own licks in He was somewhere he shouldn’t have been The secret handshake makes you kin At the door it lets you in It’s how we tell a friend from foe It’s something only we would know Me and my twelve year old son One time made a foreigner run Chased him down a dead end street Until the circle was complete There was nowhere he could run… But I couldn’t do what my daddy done… Not in front of my own son… I couldn’t do what daddy done The secret handshake makes you kin At the door it gets you in It’s how we tell a friend from foe It’s something only we would know
4.
They call it chicken, and what do I know? Who’s to say it isn’t so? Over on Madison Avenue They call it chicken and it might be true They call it chicken, it grows in a dish Tweak it a little, you could call it fish Try telling that to the man on the street How all they’re growing is the chicken meat They call it chicken but it’s not a bird Tastes just like chicken, that’s what I heard I’m not so sure it’s gonna fly I’d be too chicken to give it a try They call it chicken but it doesn’t cluck It’s got no feathers that you need to pluck It’s got no neck, it’s got no wings No beak, no bones, none of those things From chicken eggs it doesn’t hatch It doesn’t peck, it doesn’t scratch It doesn’t require a chicken coop Or someone to clean out chicken poop They call it chicken but it’s not a bird Tastes just like chicken, that’s what I heard But I can’t confirm and I can’t deny I’d be too chicken to give it a try They call it chicken, and it might be… One day maybe it’ll grow on a tree They’ll have to hire a chicken picking crew Until they figure out how to replace them too They call it chicken but the foxes hate it The roosters, they’re just real frustrated You can call it chicken, the law’s with you But it doesn’t have sex like chickens do They call it chicken but it’s not a bird Tastes just like chicken, that’s what I heard You can barbecue it on the 4th of July But I’d be too chicken to give it a try
5.
The flowers you planted bloom every Spring Outside the window the song birds sing The mornings are peaceful the evenings are too It’s quiet here now in the absence of you I never saw it when you’d take a drink You tip-toed to it when I must’ve blinked Your eyes glazing over, that was my cue To start bracing myself for the absence of you The demons would frequent and they’d trash the place And put you back later, your memory erased You’d wake up the next day, your sky would be blue I’d be still seeing stars from the absence of you Sometimes you were them, sometimes they were you I could never be certain of just who was who I’d beg G-d to take me but He never would do Night after night in the absence of you Day after day my vow I’d renew For better or worse, or just what I had to do Every so often a ghost will yell “Boo!” And remind me again of the absence of you You could be childlike and you could be sweet You could be wobbly and way off the beat You could turn mean and horrible too You just never knew in the absence of you It was the whiskey that broke your heart And maybe I even played a part What you wouldn’t tell me, I never knew It was just my best guess in the absence of you Day after day my vow I’d renew For better or worse, or just what I had to do Every so often a ghost will yell “Boo!” And remind me again of the absence of you
6.
The Forger 05:24
Up on the 3rd floor I used to rent a room It got no fresh air You could get dizzy from the fumes I’d spend the nights in there Maybe I’d sleep a few winks I’d clear a place somewhere Between the papers and the inks I had a printing press It was my Tommy gun I dreamed I ambushed them Whenever it would run I couldn’t shoot a man This was what I could do And with my documents The guards would’ve waved them through I didn’t know them I never met them How could I turn away And just forget them? I still can picture Some of their faces They were desperate to leave For safer places I was an artisan A counterfeiter I had a steady hand That didn’t get the jitters One day the partisans Told me my skills were needed ‘Cause there was madness on the rise That had to be defeated I doctored names Altered their ages I put a different place of birth Upon the pages I made them businessmen I made them teachers I made them someone else With all the same features I didn’t know them I never met them How could I turn away And just forget them? I still can picture Some of their faces They were desperate to leave For safer places I’d meet my handler In busy cafes We would trade envelopes Then go our separate ways No time for small talk Too many lives at stake Passports to reproduce All night I’d be awake I worked in secrecy Nobody knew of this Not even my daughter, or my wife There just was too much risk They said I worked too much I couldn’t tell them why But now I have to tell someone Before I die I didn’t know them I never met them How could I turn away And just forget them? I still can picture Some of their faces They were desperate to leave For safer places
7.
Stand Up Guy 03:34
Jim Joyce is a stand up guy Listen to me and I’ll tell you why He made a mistake, it made him cry And he didn’t go fishing for an alibi The pitcher was throwing a perfect game Got the first two outs of the final frame The ball was hit, he won the race He caught the throw with his foot on the base Joyce called the batter safe at first A putrid call, the all time worst A travesty, the guy was out The replay showed beyond a doubt With half a smile to mask his grief The pitcher stood in disbelief He never lost his dignity His eyes though said, “You’re kidding me!” There still was one more out to get The game it wasn’t over yet It should’ve been, he caught the throw In plenty of time but there you go In the locker room Joyce watched the tape It left him all bent out of shape He sat a while alone, distressed Outside the door the bloodthirsty press “I cost that kid a perfect game” He stood up sobbing and took the blame “I was convinced of what I saw… I just missed the bleeping call” Jim Joyce, he’s a stand up guy He called for the pitcher to please come by He face to face apologized Jim Joyce’s tears were Texas-sized “Nobody’s perfect” the pitcher would say In an interview the very next day “He’s only human, he made a mistake I hope everybody will cut him a break” The ump had an imperfect game It happens sometimes and it was a shame All you can do is stand up tall Say you’re sorry you blew the call Jim Joyce is a stand up guy That’s something nobody can deny He made a mistake, it made him cry And he didn’t go fishing for an alibi
8.
Your Violin 03:51
Your violin’s ready, it’s here in the shop It’s got a new bridge and it’s got a new top The neck, it was broken, snapped in two But now it’s almost as good as new I salvaged the splinters the best that I could Wherever I couldn’t I patched up the wood It sounds pretty good, it looks okay It’s ready to pick up, it’s ready to play Music was silenced, locked in its case It had to be hidden and not show its face The stormtroopers came, they kicked in the door They found it after they tore up the floor Just for amusement they forced you to play And after you finished they took you away They stomped it to bits and just left it there Your violin’s ready, I made the repairs The bones of its body were kept in a sack By the neighbor in case you might ever come back Up in the attic, musty with mold Discovered after the house was sold It wasn’t much more than a bag of debris The day when it was delivered to me The name inside, was it yours as well? Your violin’s got a story to tell Every so often another appears Like the rest that have found me over the years Who’d it belong to? Where was it from? Who wore down the back of the neck with their thumb? I take the pieces and I make them whole Healing the body, waking the soul I cut and I sand, I bend and I glue In honor of Him and remembrance of you
9.
It was the 13th of never It had been a very long wait For another week with two Wednesdays Hadn’t happened since 1908 Red snow flakes were falling There was a very blue moon And all the folks in Chicago Were singing a Steve Goodman tune Cats were chasing dogs that day Water ran up hill Flocks of pigs were flying The champagne had been chilled It was a short sleeve night in November The wind didn’t even blow And from hell they were reporting More than seven feet of snow They finally had a parade Leading it was a hearse There was nothing but joy in Mudville They threw a funeral for The Curse No one alive could remember The last time Easter fell in May Or another evening in the autumn Celebrating Christmas Day But the fish had climbed the poplar And the cows were coming home The sun rose in the west The day The Curse was overthrown Now some said they were ready They had hung on just for this They had crossed off all the other things Above it on the list And the ghosts no longer haunted Now that they could finally rest And old men and their fathers wept Love was unrepressed They finally had a parade Leading it was a hearse There was nothing but joy in Mudville They threw a funeral for The Curse And now anything’s liable to happen So keep an eye on the dominoes And expect the unexpected Always wear clean underclothes ’Cause it was in a month of Sundays 2nd Wednesday of the week There was hugging in the Tavern And lots of kissing on the cheek They finally had a parade And leading it was a hearse There was nothing but joy in Mudville They threw a funeral for The Curse

about

Recorded at Hollow Reed Arts, Asheville NC
Engineered by Chris Rosser
Produced by Chuck Brodsky
Cover by Drew Porter of Trivesica, Asheville NC
Funded by my fans on Kickstarter

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released March 31, 2018

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Chuck Brodsky Asheville, North Carolina

See bio at www.chuckbrodsky.com/bio. If you'd like to support me further, you can do so through my paypal address - chuck@chuckbrodsky.com. Thanks.

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