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Pastimes : Let's Talk About Our Feelings!!! -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Rambi who wrote (79261)	4/30/2000 12:43:00 PM
From: lorrie coey	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 108807

Is not Freedom worth dying for...? How many Americans have risked their lives for the cause of Our Freedom...? How many US Veterans have sacrificed their Lives in pursuit of Liberty...? How many immigrants over the last 200+ years have come to America to enjoy the Fruit of the Revolution of 1776...? It is clear that people of Courage will risk their lives for 'independence'. It's our Heritage. What will be our Legacy...? Watch what happens to Elian Gonzales. Elian's destiny is our destiny.

To: Rambi who wrote (79261)	4/30/2000 3:31:00 PM
From: lorrie coey	Respond to of 108807

The Lazarus Heart Written by Sting He looked beneath his shirt today There was a wound in his flesh so deep and wide From the wound a lovely flower grew From somewhere deep inside He turned around to face his Mother To show her the wound in his breast that burned like a brand But the sword that cut him open Was the sword in his mother's hand Every day another miracle Only death will tear us apart To sacrifice a life for yours I'd be the blood of the Lazarus heart The blood of the Lazarus heart Though the sword was his protection The wound itself would give him power The power to remake himself At the time of his darkest hour She said the wound would give him courage and pain The kind of pain that you can't hide From the wound a lovely flower grew From somewhere deep inside Every day another miracle Only death will keep us apart To sacrifice a life for yours I'd be the blood of the Lazarus heart The blood of the Lazarus heart Birds on the roof of my mother's house I've no stones that chase them away Birds on the roof of my mother's house Will sit on my roof someday They fly at the window, they fly at the door Where does she get the strength to fight them anymore She counts all her children as a shield against the rain Lifts her eyes to the sky like a flower to the rain Every day another miracle Only death will keep us apart To sacrifice a life for yours I'd be the blood of the Lazarus heart The blood of the Lazarus heart xmission.com In the liner notes for ...Nothing Like the Sun, Sting wrote, "...'Lazarus Heart' was a vivid nightmare that I wrote down and then fashioned into a song. A learned friend of mine informs me that it is the archetypical dream of the fisher king...can't I do anything original?" Contribution from Michael Baty: "As Sting himself says in the cover notes, the song was borne from a dream, which was later described to him as the archtypal dream of the Fisher King. The Fisher King is an old character from mythology about which I don't understand a great deal. But, the basis of him seems to be that he is a tragic figure who is constantly searching for the thing that is staring at him in the face, but he never, or seldom realises. Perhaps a more pertinent link to the song is in the title: Lazarus, who is of course the biblical character who is brought back from the dead by Christ. This is echoed in the song via the wound the character in the song finds, and despite the pain inflicted, the wound brings forward a great thing, Life in the shape of a Flower. I guess another strand in all this is the fact that not long before this album Sting's mother died, so the song ties in the images of death and pain with the mother figure, and a realisation that her fate will be a fate that we will all share, ("Birds on the roof of my mother's house, no stone to chase them away, birds on the roof of my mother's house, sit on my own roof some day"). In this last passage there is also a feeling of guilt and helplessness in the face of the death of a loved one, and in Sting's case a symbol of a life left behind (he didn't go to the funeral in Newcastle for he felt that it would turn it into a media event, so this was denied him). But for all this it is an up-beat song, and the final verse illustrates that we all live on in our children ("they fly at the windows they fly at the wall, where does she get the strength to fight them anymore, counts all her children as a shield against the pain, turns her eyes to the sky like a flower to the rain"). Returning to the imagery of the flower; regrowth and hope**. users.sisna.com Blaaahzaye, skippy and so forth-