Tuesday, November 8, 2011

#312 / Strike Another Match

I have had an "end of the era" feeling about our historical reality for a long time. Most of my life, in fact. My friends have always poked a bit of fun at me for this predisposition. Hey, it's not all gloom and doom. The end of what we know could be the start of something better. Maybe we could even do something about that, to make sure that's true.

Anyway, I continue to believe that things "can't go on like this."

And Bob Dylan's advice continues to be good: "Strike another match; go start anew."

It's All Over Now, Baby Blue
You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last
But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast
Yonder stands your orphan with his gun
Crying like a fire in the sun
Look out the saints are comin’ through
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue
The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense
Take what you have gathered from coincidence
The empty-handed painter from your streets
Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets
This sky, too, is folding under you
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue
All your seasick sailors, they are rowing home
All your reindeer armies, are all going home
The lover who just walked out your door
Has taken all his blankets from the floor
The carpet, too, is moving under you
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue
Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you
Forget the dead you’ve left, they will not follow you
The vagabond who’s rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore
Strike another match, go start anew
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue

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