Sweet America

Well I think it's time I'm leaving Oklahoma

There's 49 more ways to live my life

America, I'm sure that I don't know you

And I do believe you're worth another try

Sweet America, eulogize America

Then fall down on your knees and cry

Sweet America, sing about America

Then fall down on your knees and cry

Some of you say you're fourth generation

Some of you say you're part Cherokee

America, to me I see you naked

While others see just what they want to see

Sweet America, eulogize America

Then fall down on your knees and cry

Sweet America, sing about America

Then fall down on your knees and cry

I love California

But I'm watching it die

I'm watching it die

Sweet America, eulogize America

Then fall down on your knees and cry

Sweet America, sing about America

Then fall down on your knees and cry

Sweet America, eulogize America

Sing about America, sweet America

Sweet America, eulogize America

Sing about America, sweet America

This isn't the version I wanted to post, but the one I heard in my head simply wasn't available. It was by Barry Greenfield, but a much more luxe version with the first few notes of the American national anthem played on chimes. I woke up this morning with these lines in my head:

I love California

But I'm watching it die

I'm watching it die

Then I realized that, like Save the Country by Laura Nyro/The Fifth Dimension, it was a perfect anthem for these times. These melancholy, frightening times. This was written by an Englishman, I think - haven't had time to research it, there are so many miseries to attend to! So much trauma. This morning I asked myself, why do I feel this weird elation, almost euphoria sometimes? Then it came to me: I'm in crisis mode. I do great in a crisis, lousy all the rest of the time. Adrenaline mobilizes, "fight" supercedes "flight" - but only for a while. Those resources are only to be pulled out and used when they absolutely must.

I've never loved America, but I AM watching it die. And there does not seem to be one damn thing I can do about it. 

America my friend

And so once again,

My dear Johnny, my dear friend,

And so once again you are fighting us all,

And when I ask you why,

You raise your sticks and cry, and I fall,

Oh, my friend,

How did you come

To trade the fiddle for the drum,

You say I have turned,

Like the enemies you've earned,

But I can remember,

All the good things you are,

And so I ask you please,

Can I help you find the peace and the star,

Oh, my friend,

What time is this

To trade the handshake for the fist

And so once again,

Oh, America my friend,

And so once again,

You are fighting us all,

And when we ask you why,

You raise your sticks and cry and we fall,

Oh, my friend,

How did you come,

To trade the fiddle for the drum

You say we have turned,

Like the enemies you've earned,

But we can remember,

All the good things you are,

And so we ask you please,

Can we help you find the peace and the star,

Oh my friend,

We have all come,

To fear the beating of your drum

Joni Mitchell