Throwing Stones

Sometimes I’m amazed by how beautifully song lyrics and poems find their relevance in my life. Especially songs by The Grateful Dead.

I was riding my bike today and listening to Throwing Stones on the trusty iPod. I thought Yes! There we are! “So it goes, we make what we made since the world began.”

Here’s a video of the boys playing that song, March 1993, with some of the lyrics.

Commissars and pin-stripe bosses
Roll the dice.
Any way they fall,
Guess who gets to pay the price.
Money green or proletarian gray,
Selling guns ‘stead of food today.

So the kids they dance
And shake their bones,
And the politicians throwin’ stones,
Singing ashes, ashes, all fall down.
Ashes, ashes, all fall down.

Heartless powers try to tell us
What to think.
If the spirit’s sleeping,
Then the flesh is ink
History’s page will thus be carved in stone.
And we are here, and we are on our own
On our own.
On our own.
On our own.