8. The Wall by Pink Floyd

 8. The Wall by Pink Floyd

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLFwTqdsuxw&list=OLAK5uy_nE3dmeYl_9Jgv2CT0aqufkDcyB6BBMcGM

I'm lying on my bed in the dark with my eyes closed. Randy is about ten feet away on his bed. He drops the needle on the edge of The Wall. We don't say anything. We know the drill. Just lie back and listen.

...we came in?

So ya thought ya might like to go to the show

To feel the warm thrill of confusion, that space cadet glow.

I think about the day behind us. Chores in the morning. Then a rushed shower while listening to Billy Joel on the tape player. Oatmeal for breakfast. Drive the blue clunker truck to school with Randy. Daydream through dull classes, except for band, with five-minute breaks in between when my friends and I swap books stashed in our lockers and try to look at girls without getting caught looking at them. The teachers mostly hate me for my constant disruptions in class. I hate 'em back.

You! Yes, you! Stand still, laddie!

When we grew up and went to school

There were certain teachers who would

Hurt the children in any way they could

OOF!

By pouring their derision

Upon anything we did

And exposing every weakness

However carefully hidden by the kids.

But in the town, it was well known

When they got home at night, their fat and

Psychopathic wives would thrash them

Within inches of their lives.

We don't need no education.

We don't need no thought control.

No dark sarcasm in the classroom.

Teacher leave them kids alone!

Hey! Teacher! Leave them kids alone!

All in all it's just another brick in the wall.

All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

Wrong! Do it again!

If you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding. 

How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat?

You! Yes, you behind the bikesheds! Stand still, laddie!

I think about the girls I don't have the guts to talk to. Then I think about the girls I do have the guts to talk to. Why do I like the ones I can't have? Why don't I like the ones I can?  I've known some of them since grade school. The others I've known since 7th grade. But even after 5+ years of seeing them every day at school, they're still a mystery to me. 

Mother, do you think she's good enough to me?

Mother, do you think she's dangerous to me?

Mother, will she tear your little boy apart?

Mother, will she break my heart?

There's a red-haired girl that I noticed today at play practice. I've seen her before in school a lot and haven't paid much attention to her. She's one of my sister's friends. She even came up to the house one day last year. I walked into the kitchen in my after-school chore clothes--faded Levi's, long-sleeved flannel shirt, blue tractor dealer hat, brown leather work boots--and she was sitting there with her long curly hair at the kitchen counter working on something with Ruth. I paid no attention to them and just grabbed something to eat out of the fridge and told Mom I was going to ride my motorbike in the back 40 after I finished chores. She looked different today during play practice for some reason. Randy has commented about her before, said she was really good looking and fun to sing with in MarVals. She does sing really good. I heard her during practice. And damn! I love that long red hair!

I am just a new boy,

Stranger in this town.

Where are all the good times?

Who's gonna show this stranger around?

Ooooh, I need a dirty woman.

Ooooh, I need a dirty girl.

Will some cold woman in this desert land

Make me feel like a real man?

Take this rock and roll refugee

Oooh, baby set me free.

Ooooh, I need a dirty woman.

Ooooh, I need a dirty girl.

Randy is going to be gone soon. When he first moved in I thought we would become close friends, but that just hasn't happened. We get along okay, but he doesn't want to really hang out with me and my friends. He knows none of us smoke pot, and that means we're out of his social circle. But we've had some good moments during the last 7 months or so. I wonder if he'll want to keep in touch once he leaves. I doubt it. 

Hey you, out there in the cold
Getting lonely, getting old
Can you feel me?

Hey you, standing in the aisles
With itchy feet and fading smiles
Can you feel me?

Hey you, don't help them to bury the light.
Don't give in without a fight.

Hey you, out there on your own
Sitting naked by the phone
Would you touch me?

Hey you, with you ear against the wall
Waiting for someone to call out
Would you touch me?

Hey you, would you help me to carry the stone?
Open your heart, I'm coming home.

But it was only fantasy.
The wall was too high,
As you can see.
No matter how he tried,
He could not break free.
And the worms ate into his brain.

Hey you, standing in the road
always doing what you're told,
Can you help me?

Hey you, out there beyond the wall,
Breaking bottles in the hall,
Can you help me?

Hey you, don't tell me there's no hope at all
Together we stand, divided we fall.

I know he's wishing he could light up right now. I'm the only thing keeping from doing it. He probably smoked a joint after he finished milking cows at Spencer's tonight. I know how he behaves when he's high, and I think he's buzzed right now. If I hadn't gone to church and scouts with my friends all those years, I'd probably be smoking pot too. But I've made promises to myself, my mom, and my dad that I've got to keep. And I've got good friends I don't want to lose. So no pot. No booze. No girls. There's only one way for me to get high--run track.

Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run,

Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run.

You better run all day and run all night.

Keep your dirty feelings deep inside.

And if you're taking your girlfriend out tonight,

You'd better park the car well out of sight.

Cause if they catch you in the back seat trying to pick her locks,

They're gonna send you back to mother in a cardboard box.

You better run.

I want to break the five-minute mile this season. I think I can do it if I train right. It'll take lots of uphill running. None of the coaches know what to do to help me get faster. I read Jim Fixx's "The Complete Book of Running," but it's about jogging and training for marathons, not winning one- and two-mile races. For the two mile, I want to break 11 minutes, so I've got to get down to an average of 5 minutes and 30 seconds per mile. For the mile I want to break five minutes, so I've got to figure out how to run 75 second laps and then have a good kick at the end. I wonder if that red-haired girl will be impressed if I win those races. 

Crazy,

Over the rainbow, I am crazy,

Bars in the window.

There must have been a door there in the wall

When I came in.

Crazy, over the rainbow, he is crazy.

Naw. Nobody in school cares about track besides the people running track. And no one ever comes to the track meets other than the families of the runners and their friends. My friends come to the meets, but my family doesn't, except for Ruth, but she's throwing shotput and discus. Running long distance is the one thing I can do half decently, but none of the girls I never talk to care about that, and they won't come see me run. So why the hell am I killing myself doing this? I played football this year to try to impress girls, but that didn't work. And I know running track doesn't impress the girls. But it's the thing I like to do most at school, besides play pep band with my friends. 

All alone, or in two's,

The ones who really love you

Walk up and down outside the wall.

Some hand in hand

And some gathered together in bands.

The bleeding hearts and artists

Make their stand.

And when they've given you their all

Some stagger and fall, after all it's not easy

Banging your heart against some mad bugger's wall.

The needle automatically lifts off the record and rests itself on its stand. Randy is asleep. I'm almost there myself. But I lie in the dark...thinking.

I wonder if I'll dream about that red-haired girl tonight. She probably never thinks about me.

Lying on the bed, I stretch out my legs before putting them under the covers. I think I'll run up Arkansas road tomorrow after play practice. The snow melted off last month, so it's just dried dirt and gravel now. It's steep, and it'll hurt like hell. But so what....

There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.

When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown.
The dream is gone.

I have become comfortably numb.

Nardo