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The Haunting Playlist

Recently, I compiled a playlist of songs that haunt me for one reason or another. Some probably wouldn't be haunting, or as haunting, for anyone else, and for most I know the unique reason(s) why they're haunting to me.

For both documentation and entertainment, I've decided to post the lyrics of these tracks here from time to time. Here's the first installment:

Silent Running (Rutherford/Robertson)

Take the children and yourself
And hide out in the cellar
By now the fighting will be close at hand
Don't believe the church and state
And everything they tell you
Believe in me, I'm with the high command

Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?

There's a gun and ammunition
Just inside the doorway
Use it only in emergency
Better you should pray to God
The Father and the Spirit
Will guide you and protect from up here

Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?

Swear allegiance to the flag
Whatever flag they offer
Never hint at what you really feel
Teach the children quietly
For some day sons and daughters
Will rise up and fight while we stood still

Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?

Can you hear me running (can you hear me calling you?)
(Can you hear me) hear me calling you?
(Can you hear me running) hear me running babe?
(Can you hear me running) hear me running?
Calling you, calling you

Comments

What a funny idea...keeping track of creepy songs! Guess it's a great way to learn about yourself.
Used to be a TA for Sociology of Rock and Roll, so that kind of thing has always been interesting to me. I think I also use the word "haunting" with some liberty, as with something that evokes some sense of remembering and/or longing, as well as something that might make the hairs on the back of one's neck stand up. It's a difficult idea to capture (which is why music is often more effective), and I borrow liberally from the ideas of Curtis and Eldredge's The Sacred Romance.
My dad's name is Mike. And he was a mechanic his whole life.
But then how many mechanics aren't named Mike?
It's almost a prerequisite.