A young girl passionately delivers this monologue over the opening two minutes of A Silver Mt. Zion's Built Then Burnt (Hurrah! Hurrah!). The half-deadened resonance of her voice makes it clear she is preaching to a small, empty room. Overwhelmingly melancholy organ and strings pulse in the background. The overall effect can only be described as devastating. Numerous times I have found myself physically flinching at some of this child's stronger declamations. I've tried to capture here some of the tension, energy, and starkness so immediate on the record.

Dear brothers and sisters
Dear enemies and friends
Why are we all so alone here?

      All we need is a little more hope
        A little more joy
      All we need is a little more light
        A little less weight
      A  little  more  freedom

If we were an army
And if we believed that we were an army
And we believed that everyone was scared
Like little lost children in their grownup clothes and poses
So we ended up alone here
Floating through   long   wasted   days
Or great tribulations
   While everything felt wrong...

Good words, strong words
Words that could have moved mountains!
Words that no one ever said

We were all waiting to hear those words

(And no one ever said them)
And the tactics never hatched
And the plans were never mapped
And we all learned not to believe

And strange lonesome monsters loped through the hills
Wondering why
Though it is best to

never         ever        ever       ever      ever     ever    ever   ever  ever ever wonder why

So tangle
O tangle us up in bright red ribbons!
Let's have a parade!

It's been so long since we had a parade
(So let's have a parade)

Let's invite all our friends!
And all our friends' friends
Let's promenade down the boulevards
With terrific pride

And light in our eyes                 

Twelve  feet  tall  and  staggering
Sick with joy
With the angels there
And light in our eyes                 

Brothers and sisters
Hope still waits in the wings
Like a bitter spinster
Impatient,       lonely,       shivering
Waiting to build her glorious fires

It's because of our plans, man                         
All our beautiful ridiculous plans                         
Let's launch them like careening jet planes                         
Let's crash all our planes into the river                         
Let's build strange and riddled machines                         

Because Jericho is waiting to fall

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.