참세상

fuel

written by ani difranco
ani difranco, [little plastic castle] (1998) 수록

they were digging a new foundation in manhattan
and they discovered a slave cemetery there.
may their souls rest easy now that lynching is frowned upon
and we've moved onto the electric chair.
and i wonder who's gonna be president, tweedle dum or tweedle dumber?
and who's gonna have the big blockbuster box office this summer?
how 'bout we put up a wall between houses and the highway
and you can go your way,
i can go my way.
except all the radios agree with all the tvs. and the magazines agree with all the radios.
and i keep hearing that same damn song everywhere i go.
maybe i should put a bucket over my head and a marshmallow in each ear
and stumble around for another dumb numb week for another hum-drum hit song to appear.
people used to make records as in a record of event,
the event of people playing music in a room.
now everything is cross-marketing.
it's about sunglasses and shoes or guns or drugs, you choose.
we got it rehashed.
we got it half-assed.
we're digging up all the graves and we're spitting on the past.
and we can choose between the colors of the lipstick on the whores.
cuz we know the difference between the font of twenty percent more and the font of teriyaki.
you tell me, how does it make you feel?
you tell me what's real?
and they say that alcoholics are always alcoholics even when they're as dry as my lips for years.
even when they're stranded on a small desert island with no place in two thousand miles to buy beer.
and i wonder is he different?
is he different?
has he changed what he's about?
or is he just a liar with nothing to lie about?
am i headed for the same brick wall, is there anything i can do about anything at all?
except go back to that corner in manhattan and dig deeper, dig deeper this time.
down beneath the impossible pain of our history
between unknown bones beneath the bedrock of the mystery
beneath the sewage system and the path train.
beneath the cobblestones and the water main,
beneath the traffic of friendships and street deals.
beneath the screeching of kamikaze cab wheels,
beneath everything i can think of to think about,
beneath it all.
beneath it all to get out.
beneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel.



ani's explanation : the music on "fuel" came from a jam, we were just messing around, and i told [the engineers] to roll tape, and then i recorded the poem "fuel" over that musical bed. the poem is about creating fuel for change, about how, with everything we do, we conduct energy -- and at the same time it's all just fucking fuel for a big fire in the end. it's also about the impermanence or transience or insignificance of everything. all of human circumstance, everything we create, is on a thin crust surrounding a huge ball of fire much bigger than any of us, that doesn't even recognize our existence! "fuel" is my little joke with myself about the album. "fuel" is actually a much better title for this album, because in a way it's like i'm trying to fuel something, i'm trying to power my own life, and yet it is just fuel for a very big fire. my work has so much import for me, and yet i'm always aware of my own insignificance in the face of the work that a lot of other people do, or in the face of ... everything.