Percy's song
- From: Mr Jinx <vernon__briscoe@xxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Tue, 24 Nov 2009 03:27:23 -0800 (PST)
Yesterday I was in Santander Bank. I was queuing to make a deposit
when an altercation broke out. Some rough-looking people were there
shouting at the manager of the bank. He had been called out from the
back room to arbitrate in a dispute. These people were trying to get
some money out of an account and did not quite have the right
identification. They needed the money urgently and the bank manager
-- a rather flustered looking man in a red tie and suit -- was trying
to explain to them why they could not have their money.
"What are we supposed to do then?" said the lady. "We ain't got
enough for food and you won't let us have our money."
The manager explained that he had to follow procedures.
"We can't read, though. We can't fill in them forms. We've got this
cheque book."
'Sorry, madam. We must have the correct identification." and so on
and so on.
The exchange reminded me of Percy's Song. My heart went out to these
people as they tried to grapple with a system too rigid and too much
for them.
Percy's song is unusual in many ways. The actual victim of the song
-- or the person we identify with the most --- is the person pleading
against authority for clemency, not the dead man, or even the man
convicted.
BUREAUCRACY is a pernicious bloom. And yet we must all smell its scent
in form or another, I suppose. Hope they got their money.
Mr Jinx
Bad news, bad news,
Come to me where I sleep,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Sayin' one of your friends
Is in trouble deep,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Tell me the trouble,
Tell once to my ear,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Joliet prison
And ninety-nine years,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Oh what's the charge
Of how this came to be,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Manslaughter
In the highest of degree,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
I sat down and wrote
The best words I could write,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Explaining to the judge
I'd be there on Wednesday night,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Without a reply,
I left by the moon,
Turn, turn, turn again.
And was in his chambers
By the next afternoon,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Could ya tell me the facts?
I said without fear,
Turn, turn, turn again.
That a friend of mine
Would get ninety-nine years,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
A crash on the highway
Flew the car to a field,
Turn, turn, turn again.
There was four persons killed
And he was at the wheel,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
But I knew him as good
As I'm knowin' myself,
Turn, turn, turn again.
And he wouldn't harm a life
That belonged to someone else,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
The judge spoke
Out of the side of his mouth,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Sayin', "The witness who saw,
He left little doubt,"
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
That may be true,
He's got a sentence to serve,
Turn, turn, turn again.
But ninety-nine years,
He just don't deserve,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Too late, too late,
For his case it is sealed,
Turn, turn, turn again.
His sentence is passed
And it cannot be repealed,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
But he ain't no criminal
And his crime it is none,
Turn, turn, turn again.
What happened to him
Could happen to anyone,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
And at that the judge jerked forward
And his face it did freeze,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Sayin', "Could you kindly leave
My office now, please,"
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Well his eyes looked funny
And I stood up so slow,
Turn, turn, turn again.
With no other choice
Except for to go,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
I walked down the hallway
And I heard his door slam,
Turn, turn, turn again.
I walked down the courthouse stairs
And I did not understand,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
And I played my guitar
Through the night to the day,
Turn, turn, turn again.
And the only tune
My guitar could play
Was, "Oh the Cruel Rain
And the Wind."
.
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