Will I dream?
Posted: 15 Jul 2003, 12:33
Given that I don't thrive on lucidity, that my own experience of the world will no doubt affect my interpretation of a song.........and that as Dan once so eloquently commented, it could just be a load of coincidental bollox, I give you
HUNTER S THOMPSON - HELLS ANGELS
The dunes are flatter here, and on windy days sand blows across the
highway, piling up in thick drifts as deadly as any oil slick...
instant loss of control, a crashing, cartwheeling slide and maybe one
of those two-inch notices in the paper the next day: "An unidentified
motorcyclist was killed last night when he failed to negotiate a turn
on Highway 1."
Indeed... but no sand this time, so the lever goes up into fourth,
and now there's no sound except wind. Screw it all the way over,
reach through the handlebars to raise the headlight beam, the needle
leans down on a hundred, and wind-burned eyeballs strain to see down
the centerline, trying to provide a margin for the reflexes.
But with the throttle screwed on, there is only the barest margin,
and no room at all for mistakes. It has to be done right... and
that's when the strange music starts, when you stretch your luck so
far that fear becomes exhileration and vibrates along your arms. You
can barely see at a hundred; the tears blow back so fast that they
vaporize before they get to your ears. The only sounds are the wind
and a dull roar floating back from the mufflers. You watch the white
line and try to lean with it... howling through a turn to the right,
then to the left, and down the long hill to Pacifica... letting off
now, watching for cops, but only until the next dark stretch and
another few seconds on the edge... The Edge... There is no honest way
to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are
the ones who have gone over. The others- the living- are those who
pushed their luck as far as they felt they could handle it, and then
pulled back, or slowed down, or did whatever they had to when it came
time to choose between Now and Later.
-----------
something will happen here
I can feel it
on the howling edge of pink and white and blue
something, right here
I can feel it
and now it's just too real to
still believe in you
and will I ...dream?
when it's over will I dream?
when it's over will I?
when it's happened will I?
when it's over will I dream?
something is happening here
I can feel it
on the howling edge of pink and white and baby -
will I ...dream?
when it's over will I dream?
when it's over will I?
when it's happened will I?
when it's over will I dream?
something has happened here
I can feel it
on the howling edge of pink and white and steely blue
something, right here
I can feel it
and now it's just too real
to will belief in you
and will I ...dream?
when it's over will I dream?
when it's over will I?
when it's happened will I?
when it's over will I dream?
Okay, so here's what I draw form this passage and the lyrics of the song
three tenses, will, is and has happened
>>on the howling edge of pink and white and blue
howling and edge are both contained within the text, in the context of being at the extremity, if not just beyond, of safety
pink and white, are high frequency noise, somewhat akin to over-revving of a bike engine, steely blue is the colour of heat treated steel, say for example pistons or cylinders.
Baby is a personification for the bike,
That's about it
Cheers
HUNTER S THOMPSON - HELLS ANGELS
The dunes are flatter here, and on windy days sand blows across the
highway, piling up in thick drifts as deadly as any oil slick...
instant loss of control, a crashing, cartwheeling slide and maybe one
of those two-inch notices in the paper the next day: "An unidentified
motorcyclist was killed last night when he failed to negotiate a turn
on Highway 1."
Indeed... but no sand this time, so the lever goes up into fourth,
and now there's no sound except wind. Screw it all the way over,
reach through the handlebars to raise the headlight beam, the needle
leans down on a hundred, and wind-burned eyeballs strain to see down
the centerline, trying to provide a margin for the reflexes.
But with the throttle screwed on, there is only the barest margin,
and no room at all for mistakes. It has to be done right... and
that's when the strange music starts, when you stretch your luck so
far that fear becomes exhileration and vibrates along your arms. You
can barely see at a hundred; the tears blow back so fast that they
vaporize before they get to your ears. The only sounds are the wind
and a dull roar floating back from the mufflers. You watch the white
line and try to lean with it... howling through a turn to the right,
then to the left, and down the long hill to Pacifica... letting off
now, watching for cops, but only until the next dark stretch and
another few seconds on the edge... The Edge... There is no honest way
to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are
the ones who have gone over. The others- the living- are those who
pushed their luck as far as they felt they could handle it, and then
pulled back, or slowed down, or did whatever they had to when it came
time to choose between Now and Later.
-----------
something will happen here
I can feel it
on the howling edge of pink and white and blue
something, right here
I can feel it
and now it's just too real to
still believe in you
and will I ...dream?
when it's over will I dream?
when it's over will I?
when it's happened will I?
when it's over will I dream?
something is happening here
I can feel it
on the howling edge of pink and white and baby -
will I ...dream?
when it's over will I dream?
when it's over will I?
when it's happened will I?
when it's over will I dream?
something has happened here
I can feel it
on the howling edge of pink and white and steely blue
something, right here
I can feel it
and now it's just too real
to will belief in you
and will I ...dream?
when it's over will I dream?
when it's over will I?
when it's happened will I?
when it's over will I dream?
Okay, so here's what I draw form this passage and the lyrics of the song
three tenses, will, is and has happened
>>on the howling edge of pink and white and blue
howling and edge are both contained within the text, in the context of being at the extremity, if not just beyond, of safety
pink and white, are high frequency noise, somewhat akin to over-revving of a bike engine, steely blue is the colour of heat treated steel, say for example pistons or cylinders.
Baby is a personification for the bike,
That's about it
Cheers