Good Friday

Good Friday image“Good Friday” features both deep and complex philosophical lyrics and an incredibly rich musical arrangement. This song also holds the distinction as being the longest track on The Journey as well as the oldest composition for either the Sinclair Soul or previous Imaginary Lines project.

On this track, Ric Albano provides piano, bass, clavichord and lead vocals, along with Bret Alexander on acoustic and electric guitars and Ron Simasek on drums.

Lyrics

“Good Friday”

An excruciating dose of harsh reality
On this dreary, dark, cold March afternoon
A respectable chunk of my personality
Dissolves to dust within the writing room
I summon the ghost of the ancient one
Her name is on the tip of my tongue
And brace for a sharp ratiocination
But unmercifully that blow never comes

(So while I’m) dancing on the head of a stick
(Awaiting your) distinction between
“Joe Hero” and “Jack Convict”
(I’ll fight the) urge to quench the thirst of our ancestor’s cravings
By not behaving so burned and conned

As my illusion of grandeur slowly crashes
One underlying discourse starts within
Will today’s holy palms become the ashes-
That’ll accompany tomorrow’s changing hymns?
And so that brings us to Good Friday,
“We both knew this day would someday come”
Although fasting from meat may make you hungry
I never would have believed you’d eat your young

(In a room off) pothole infested roads we would play
(Those relative) games of black and white and shades of gray
(While fueling) the urge to fill the void in our ancestor’s yearnings
Without concerning this new paragon

Forsaken descendants, mechanical offspring
You’ll never have children
While the burden consumes you
Forsaken ancestry:
Tear down the Temple wall!
Firebomb the pyramids!
Level the twin towers then run!

But no one reminds me like you do
Of the ideals and ambitions that have been lost
All those naïve conclusions where we’d arrive, fooled
That all the best things in life must harbor cost
And so we return to Good Friday
A verge that we’ve expected all the while?
Can either of us see beyond today?
May Saturday’s dawn yet be compiled?

(Harmoniously) singing the songs of yesterday
(In an attempt to) fabricate the verbal games we’d play
(Our aria) is composed of tunes of our ancestor’s likeness-
Too polite to seize our day – carpe diem!
I want it all and I want it right now!

Forsaken opportunity, situation unforeseen,
You never did prepare for this day as reality
Forsaken opportunity:
Tear down the fortress walls!
Back-fill your foxhole!
Good Friday has come and now has gone!

© 2002-2017 Ric Albano and Cygnus Wave Records

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