About This Song: (scroll down for lyrics)
Back in the 1980’s there was a lot of fear and anxiety about the USSR and the USA and their massive nuclear arsenals aimed at each other…. things have changed.
The wall came down.
And you don’t hear too much about the possibility of nuclear war in the news… these days…
I’m not sure where all these weapons went but I still think we need to be praying for peace….however you do that…
It could be some kind of “official” kind of prayer or some “close facsimile” such as singing. For me singing is definitely a form of prayer…
This particular recording is from my Live Unknown CD… crica 1989. From the archives for sure!
Recorded live in 1989 this song is still one of the ones I sing the most for myself.
There’s another version of a more recent recording done at Joe Mennonna’s Studio in 2015 that sounds waaay better to me, and is less rushed. I think both are valuable for the contrast. I used to be so nervous performing before I got into all the self hypnosis stuff and I RUSHED through songs a lot… I do that a lot less now… either way it’s all part of the process.
Song # 59 | May-June 1982 | CD: Live Unknown
Off on some empty desert
Stretch of Paradise
The wind in the gravel
Burdened me with this advice
“Catch yourself in falling Time
Then laugh and leave it all behind
The Universe is meaningless
Until you touch it with your Mind”
I remember wondering
And I still wonder to this day
What that dirt road statement
Really had at heart to say
Meanwhile the streets wait for a prophet
And the buildings wait for a saint
Some back alley poet
Makes his statement in spray paint
As we continue to move towards Entropy
The Shape of who we are
The only chance we have left is to pray endlessly
Or carry out some close Facsimile
“Beware of me! beware of me”
Sings the serpent in our dreams
We laugh out in the daylight
Till the dark starts leaking through the seams
So we turn our eyes to science
Put our faith in “thinking Man”
We try to break alliance
With a god that we cannot command
Cacophony of honking horns
Agony of aching feet
Apocalypse at 5:00 PM
I try to keep my fear discreet
Look at me, look at yourselves
Look at everything we are
Then hold my daughter in your arms
And tell me what her chances are…
Copyright 1982-2015 by Mark Shepard. All Rights Reserved. Used with permission.