Hidden Behind Glass #SoCS #SongLyricSunday

Last week’s combined blog hops were so much fun and received so well that I decided to try again this weekend.

and

Saturday and Sunday go together in my mind, like peanut butter and jelly or spaghetti and meatballs.

I read the prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday and the question kept coming up, again and again, but since I had no answer I let the day pass by without answering.

Then, when I saw that Helen Espinosa went with my suggested prompt for her blog’s
Song Lyric Sunday
this week, I thought of music I’ve learned from, and one band in particular came to my mind.

What constitutes pretty?

Often, pretty things are kept behind glass, like the cabinets of my grandmothers or my mother when I was growing up. Of course, that didn’t always stop me from opening the glass doors to feel what was behind them, but I usually didn’t, with the fear that I would break something and that it would no longer be considered a pretty thing.

I can’t remember the first time I learned of Ireland or why I’ve loved it for so long since. I do know this band was a big part of it.

***

Another head hangs lowly
Child is slowly taken
And the violence caused such silence
Who are we mistaken
But you see it’s not me
It’s not my family
In your head, in your
Head they are fighting
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head,
In your head they are cryin’
In your head, in your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie
Hey, hey
What’s in your head, in your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie
Hey, hey, hey, oh
Dou, dou, dou, dou
Dou, dou, dou, dou
Dou, dou, dou, dou
Dou, dou, dou, dou
Another mother’s breakin’
Heart is taking over
When the violence causes silence
We must be mistaken
It’s the same old theme since nineteen-sixteen
In your head,
In your head they’re still fightin’
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head, in your head they are dyin’
In your head, in your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie
Hey, heyWhat’s in your head, in your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie
Hey, hey, hey
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ohHey, oh, ya, ya-a

Lyrics found at A to Z Lyrics.

***

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zombie_(song)

This is, arguably, the band’s biggest hit song to date. I didn’t know of the history of violence in Ireland when I first listened to it, but the harsh sounding song made me stand up and take notice.

One person’s history is another’s present.

From 1916 to 2016.

What really changes in one hundred years?

I would eventually visit Ireland and I learned about some of the violence that Zombie referenced, I stood where some of it will forever stand, but I didn’t come home with a head full to bursting with facts. It was an overwhelming experience to just be there, but I did not live it. It isn’t my country. Yet.

I grew up in Canada, during a time and place of peace. I knew nothing of tanks or bombs or guns. Well, other than the guns for hunting that my uncle or my grandfather kept in similar cabinets as my grandmother, locked and behind glass doors. They were harmless things that I gave very little thought to as a young child.

I’m not a little girl anymore. I can’t keep believing in, counting on the harmlessness of guns. Glass can be shattered.