So today, for your listening and reading enjoyment, I'm posting one of the debut songs from my new musical collective Whitman's Ghost. The chorus and musical arrangement is by band member Aron Agerton and the verses are adapted from the poem of the same name by yours truly.
Whitman's Ghost. O Discordia.
This is the original poem for you. It was after a break-up where I wasn't sure where I was headed, but remembered all the pain I'd been getting, but at the same time dishing out my own. Definitely wasn't on the path I was needing to be on.
It's also got a bunch of literary reference, the majority of which come from Stephen King's magnum opus The Dark Tower. It's this sprawling western/fantasy epic that kicks butt over seven novels (there's more now) and has some pretty strong connections to the rest of his work. All told, there's a bunch of reference that has our main character spinning his wheels trying to make up for his past.
O Discordia
I am me, and you are not
I am the last thing that I've got
all these open doors will soon be shut
here I come, ready or not
I have not forgot the face of my father
or the clearing at the end of the path
the direction of my travels tend to wander
until I'm faced with the aftermath
I'm going down, my guns a-blazin'
out of bullets when I turn to the sword
zig and zag those peals of lightning
as if I'd forgotten what I'm fighting for
I am me, and you are not
I am the last thing that I've got
all these open doors will soon be shut
here I come, ready or not
bodies piled high in the courtyard
it's not the outcome we deserve
seeing through shades of gray is so hard
when all along it's the white we're to serve
not that I aim to take no prisoners
the price to fight for our sake
and as the ranks are growing thinner
dead and wounded lie in our wake
bang bang, shoot shoot
we deal our trade in lead
happiness is a warm gun
forever pointed at your head
call off these harriers
please, please, and thankee sai
break down these barriers
and remove the plank from my eye
all is quiet on the western front
not a sound to be heard
picking, poking, prodding at the remains
is a single, solitary bird
this old crow's wings been clipped
hopping back and forth from corpse to corpse
all that's left that seems alive
is this sputtering, guttering, blackened torch
I am me, and you are not
I am the last thing that I've got
all these open doors will soon be shut
here I come, ready or not
Don't click on this next link unless you want major spoilers to the series!