A song I heard on the radio while driving through the traffic and the drizzling rain this morning can’t get itself out of my head, so I thought to share, thus possibly passing the contagion on to you. 🙂
You may be fed up with my constant mentioning of the car and the activities I perform inside, but the truth is that I spend a lot of time in this blessed vehicle and thus, for years, it has been a place through which I observe the city, where I think some of my best thoughts or vent my private emotions.
The song was released in 1990, is called Cliche, and is performed by Fish, most widely known as the Scottish singer-songwriter of British 1980s progressive rock band Marillion.
It has very good lyrics (cliche-fish), which offer a most exquisite balance between self-irony, emotional abandon, sincerity and tenderness. Also, the guitar solos are great accompaniment to gloomy weather, I must say.
I’ve taken the liberty of tagging this post as Poetry, because, after this year’s Nobel Prize for Literature having gone to Bob Dylan, I think society has done away with still another taboo – that of drawing a line between poetry, as in rarefied measured speech intelligible to a chosen few, and popular songs one can brood over while having a beer.
I’ve got a reputation of being a man with the gift of words, […]
I couldn’t resist taking a picture of this car this morning, as it had the Adolf Hitler signature at the original place of the number plate. Only yesterday I read of Hitler being respected as a strict disciplinarian and an effective no-nonsense ruler in many developing-world countries, in some of which his fan clubs were allegedly quite ignorant of his feats in the forced labour and genocide areas.
Listening to the beautiful Cliche song and looking at this unfortunate and rather silly manifestation of machismo for most of my drive to work was a most strange experience indeed.