Collective Unrest

 

Under the Gun Round Here

July 3, 2018

Under the Gun Round Here (a Counting Crows cover)

Steps past the guard like a ghost
Into the fog where no one notices
The contrast of white on white.
And in between the moon and you,
The angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between death and life.

I hide in the air between the rain
Through myself and back again.
Where? I don’t know.
Someone cries out “we’re dying.”
Through the door I hear him firing.
Why? I don’t know.

Round here, we’re gonna stand up straight;
Round here, something radiates.

He came from nowhere with an AR in his hand;
Said he’d like to be a boy inside a fortress.
And he walks along the edge
Of where the trigger meets his hands
Like he’s walking on a wire in the circus.

He parks his car outside the school;
Takes his guns out.
Says he’s close to understanding Jesus.
He’s more than just-a-little-misunderstood;
He has trouble acting like life isn’t worthless.

Round here, we’re carving out our names;
Round here, we’ll never be the same.

Round here they talk just like lions,
But they sacrifice us like lambs.
Round here, he slipped right through their hands.

He hears voices in his head.
He says, “I know, it’s only in my head.”
But he’s a boy in a car in a parking lot;
He says, “man, I should take a shot.
Can’t you see my walls are crumbling?”

Then he looks up at the building,
His heart filled with nothing.
He says he’s tired of life;
He must be tired of something.

Round here, it’s always on my mind.
Round here, I got lots of time.
Round here, we’re never sent to bed early,
But the whole world makes us wait.
Round here we stay up very, very, very, very late.

Round here, we’re carving out our names;
Round here, we’ll never be the same.
Round here they talk just like lions,
But they sacrifice us like lambs.
Round here, we’re slipping through your hands.

Would you catch me if I’m falling?
Would you catch me if I’m falling?
Will you catch me, ’cause I’m falling down on you.
I said, “I’m under the gun…round here.”
I said, “I’m under the gun…round here.”
I can’t see nothin’, nothin’ round here.
But I swear this time, we’ll do somethin’
Somethin’ round here.

 

Pip Lewis is a 15-year-old singer-songwriter born in Hampshire, England. She now lives in San Diego, California, and is about to start eleventh grade at La Jolla Country Day School. She recently released her first single, Frown, on iTunes and Spotify, and you can follow her at www.PipLewisMusic.com.

Dan Norland is a high school history teacher at La Jolla Country Day School in San Diego, California.

Please follow and like us:
Newer Post

Day of the Daisy: A Musical

Day of the Daisy: A Musical," by Margaret Koger is a powerhouse hybrid of poetic edge and unique execution blending journalistic citation into the fray with effortless prowess as it plunges you into its winding narrative. A refreshing example of…
Read
Random Post

Bleeding Out

This is how the rich abandon the poor we forget them because we can, over and over again           Don’t you see? This is how the poor stay voiceless common slaves to our dictates, they cannot hold us to account           Do…
Read
Random Post

The smell of gunpowder, and cowering

a. How did I ever make beds before making babies; or make anything at all, How do we get up when shootings will lay us back down, lay us back down to wear the dirt socks; in pine - cut…
Read
Random Post

death valley vacuum

for those who never came back   they raise a gun. they raise a hand. one of them goes off. i think of raising a child or the lemon tree on my porch in this climate. all the heat comes…
Read
Random Post

Attending College for The First 2 Years of Trump's America

I remember what it was like to be in college when Donald Trump was elected president of the United States in 2016. To be one of, if not the only black person in the classroom. It takes a toll on…
Read
Random Post

The Bridge

I heard Spanish first. I slipped into the world deafened by my mother’s cries. Her songs were familiar. Her voice was familiar. But her anguish was primordial. Her anguish didn’t need to be broken into meaning. It lived in the…
Read