We're living in a time of inconvenience

[Call me Deacon Blues]

We're living in a time of inconvenience
Compassion fails me with this meanness in the air
Our city streets are filled with violence
So we close our doors to the city
And pretend that it's not there

Here I go again
Back out on these mean streets
The evil seems to cling to the soles of my feet
Cuz' I'm living in a time of inconvenience
At an inconvenient time

We're living in the age of communication
Where the only voices heard have money in their hands
Where greed has become a sophistication
And if you ain't got money
You ain't got nothin' in this land

Here I am one lonely woman
On these mean streets
Where the right to life man has become my enemy
Cuz' I'm living in his time of inconvenience
At an inconvenient time

And I've turned my cheek
As my history fades
While the clock ticks away
Any progress we've made
I never thought
I'd be ashamed to be human
Afraid to say
My time has seen its day

Cuz' I'm living in a time of inconvenience
Living in a time of inconvenience
Living in a time of inconvenience
It's an inconvenient time

This is the time of greed and power
Where everyone needs to have someone to shove around
Our children come to us for answers
Listening for freedom but they don't know the sound
And there they are, our children
Dumped out in these mean streets
The evil sweeps them up
And brings them to their knees

Cuz' they're living in our time of inconvenience
They're living in the age of communication
This is a time of greed and power
This is a time that I wish was not mine
Cuz' it's an inconvenient time


By Nanci Griffith © 1994 Ponder Heart
Music/Irving Music Inc. (BMI)


Sigh. I was just listening to this -- it seems appropriate for these sad times.

[Chomskyite]

1. If only it were only "inconvenience"

For so many of us now it's savage, unrelenting suffering.

[lectrobyte]

2. We enter a time of calamity

We enter a time of calamity. Blood on the tarmac. Fingers in the juicer. Towers of air frozen in the lunar wastes. Models dead on the runways with their legs facing backward. Children with smiles that can't be undone. Chicken shall rot in the aisles. See the pillars fall.

-- M.T. Anderson, "Feed"

[Wilms]

3. I really dig that tune. (A great recording, as well.)

I'm gonna crank up the old CD player, now.

Thanks