A stranger comes to my bedside, stands over me while I sleep,
comes into my room from the outside, from the darkest shadow creeps.
Who would have thought that he'd come here, into the sanctity of my home?
I never even knew the fear. Never knew I wasn't alone.
Darkness veils this barren land devoid of all hope and love
as he stretches out a bloodstained hand concealed behind a heavy black glove.
And it's murder! As he reaches for my throat,
then runs off with footsteps soft, concealed behind an ominous black coat.
(Act II)
The woman comes to a surgeon hoping for some peace of mind,
and yet shrinking away from the bludgeon that she has come to find.
The surgeon's in it for money to assassinate a defenseless foe
with a weapon of expert cunning. And through this, the apathy grows.
Darkness veils this fertile land devoid of all hope and love
as he stretches out a bloodstained hand concealed behind a white glove.
And it's murder in new words! As he reaches for the womb,
the words come from his own mother:
"I'd love to bring you into this world, but there just isn't enough room."
Is this genocide? Is it all a lie to take away his life?
But we turn a blind eye to the homicide, we're accomplices to this crime.
Oh, it's such a shame. He never even had a name,
never knew the joy of this life, never opened up his little eyes.
Darkness veils this barren land devoid of all hope and love,
and he stretches out a bloodstained hand concealed behind a lawful white glove.
And it's murder in new words as he reaches for the womb.
The words come from his own mother:
"I'd love to bring you into this world, but there just isn't enough room"
Is this genocide? Is it all a lie to take away his life?
But we turn a blind eye to this homicide, accomplices to this crime.
Oh, it's such a shame. He never even had a name,
never knew the joy of this life, never opened up his eyes.
We all cry for the mother and the pain that she must feel within...
...but no one cries for him.
This is an older song I wrote, probably about three years ago, I remember it was one of the first songs I ever wrote in a minor key and during a time when I hardly yet comprehended what that phrase meant.
We should all be viewing this issue with close and critical scrutiny especially in light of the Kermit Gosnell case, where not only what I call infanticide was perpetrated, but also what every right-thinking person calls infanticide. I hope we can all agree that once the baby is living outside of the womb it is a baby.
I know that abortion is thought of as a women's rights issue, but I don't care about that when life is at stake. The first and most fundamental right is the right to live. How can we have come here? Does the pain a person has suffered really justify them for hurting, let alone killing, another person? When it comes to abortion I only ask one question. Is it murder or is it not murder? You cannot have it both ways. If it is murder then it is always murder. If it is not murder then it is never murder. People who want to call it two different ways in two different circumstances make me crazy with grief. That we should kill someone for having an evil father, or even just because he or she is an inconvenience to us. Oh, God, help us.
The first verse of this song is a kind of a symbolic parable. Each one of us young adults could well have been aborted at the whim of our mothers, and that is a sobering thought. And when we stand by and let it happen, we are no better than accomplices. We may as well lay our coats at the feet of Saul the Pharisee.
I use the word genocide in this song as a play on the word. Of course, abortion, at least today, has nothing to do with what we call genocide, but I used it to convey the idea that a person is killing his or her own genes.
How do we know what we've destroyed when we end a life before it's even begun? We've all been charmed by children who are seeing things for the first time and excited and happy to live in such a large and vibrant world. What have we done by denying the joy of this life to our unloved children?
Ben Folds wrote a song years ago called "Brick" and it wasn't supposed to say anything moralistic, it was only meant to incite pity and express the emotional pain he and his girlfriend went through when they aborted their child. It is musically a good song, but there is nothing more contemptible to me than someone who after having committed a murder wants you to refrain from calling them out on it but at the same time wants you to feel pity for their guilt-feelings.
... but no one cries for him.
No comments:
Post a Comment