Thanks for reading this one, I thought it might be a bit too heavy for most to relate too. And I didn’t feel it flowed as well as it could. I may work on it more.
So Bobby Young: I sort of was thinking with and reflecting on a few artists Bobby (Bob Dylan) and Neil Young songs when I wrote it.
You know Young‘s lines "24 and there is so much more" and " I just turned 22 and was wondering what to do" I used "It’s not like you’re 23, you got eyes and you can see" to sort of fill in the gap.
And the “It’s” at the end of a verse was something Dylan did a few times. The rhythm was kind of a mixture of both their works.
Bobby is a fictitious guy to some degree but I had a friend in mind when I wrote it. He was this very capable guy who had big-time goals of helping societies he felt were in grave need of help. He then basically abandoned this purpose, like he could just leave it behind. I know when he looks in the mirror he can‘t hide from this purpose.
And, I guess it could be about any of us who are semi-able beings on a planet where many are in apathy and dramatize like they can’t do anything to change the course of things.
It was written for those who feel like they should be doing something about the messes we see mankind or other people stuck in and who have sort of lost their purpose to help. When the semi-able look in the mirror and they can’t really ignore their calling, even though, they may try. It likely won't get many comments cause like I warned you it is propably a bit heavy for light hearted.
Reflections of Bobby Young
How can you hide from the face that’s in your mirror?
It’s time you side with the space that views much clearer.
The world keeps spinning wrong -- an orb without dawn,
you know what’s coming round, man goes upside down--
you just ignore it.
Can you just rock-it away -- blast off like you can play?
It’s not like you’re 23, you got eyes and you can see,
man's races ripped insane -- their faces up in flames.
Resting like you have no ears, but the dreams of the screams--
you can’t sleep through it.
Your mirror keeps its calling -- “what you gonna do?"
Pawning all your notions and your lies-- it’s no use.
In your self reflecting glass, you could be kicking ass,
though the fog is on your mind, your eye is of the kind--
you see clear through it .
How can you hide from the face that’s in your mirror,
the face that could always serve was brave and had some nerve?
Will you give your face a slap-- your honor will come back,
Let your mirror be your sword, hold that truth way up high
and slice right through shit.
george
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Reflections of Bobby Young
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