Song Info
Originated on March 22, 2002
Composed by Ric Albano (Cygnus Wave Music, ASCAP)
From the compilation album Pieces of the Past by Sinclair Soul
Released on April 7, 2026
Musicians
Ric Albano – piano, bass, synths, vocals
Bret Alexander – rhythm and lead guitars
Ron Simasek – drums
Listen to the Song:
Lyrics
An excruciating dose of harsh reality
On this dreary, dark, cold March afternoon
A respectable chunk of my personality
Is ground to dust within this air-tight room
I shout out a call to the ancient one
Her name’s on the tip of my tongue
And brace for the crash of revelating lungs
But unmercifully that blow doesn’t come
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 illusions of grandeur slowly smashes
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”
Though fasting from meat may make you hungry
I’d never believe you’d eat your young
In a room off pothole infested roads we’d play
Those relative games of black and white and shades of gray
While fueling the urge to fill the void in our ancestor’s yearning
Without concerning the new Babylon
Forsaken descendants (forsaken descendants, forsaken descendants)
Mechanical offspring, (mechanical offspring, mechanical offspring)
You’ll never have children (you’ll never have children)
While the burden consumes you (while the burden consumes you)
Forsaken ancestry (forsaken ancestry)
Tear down the Temple walls!
Firebomb the pyramids!
Level the twin towers then run
But no one reminds me like you do
Of those ideals and ambitions that have been lost
Of those naive conclusions where we’d arrive, fooled
That the best things in life all harbor cost
And so we return to Good Friday
A juncture we’ve expected all the while
But neither of us saw beyond today
When Saturday’s dawn must be compiled
Harmoniously singing the songs of yesterday
In an attempt to fabricate those 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 (forsaken opportunity, forsaken opportunity)
Situation unforeseen (situation unforeseen, situation unforeseen)
You never did prepare for (you never did prepare for)
This day as reality (this day as reality, day as reality)
Forsaken opportunity:
Tear down the fortress walls!
Back-fill your foxhole!
Good Friday has come and now has gone
© 2002-2026 Ric Albano and Cygnus Wave Records
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