AfPak

Barbara snagged us front-row center seats Saturday night.

Ringing on the telephone, pick it up and say

What’s a man to do with all the trouble ’round today?

Heard it takes a worried man to sing a worried song

Sing it now, but Lord, don’t let it all go on too long

Something in the air,

And it’s moving like a southbound train

Sun is going down,

And it seems like I’ll be the same

World keeps spinning ’round, people say there’s debt to pay

I don’t know––too busy with my life from day to day

But whosoever journeys up against that border line

The shadows of an ancient flame burn away in time

Hey,

I was down in Arkansas, working graveyard shift

Moving crates for exportation with a big forklift

Most were crackers, Coca-Cola, shoes and ceiling fans

Two were marked Top Secret, headed for Afghanistan

Something in the air,

And it’s moving like a southbound train

Sun is going down,

And it seems like I’ll be the same

See shadows on the sun, see a coming thundercloud

Nothing will persuade, but all will be allowed

And some will seek their god from a heaven in the sky

Defending their affliction with a holy alibi

Hey,

Ringing on the telephone, pick it up and say

What’s a man to do with all the trouble ’round today?

I’m calling up the president, ask him what he say

No answer, left a message, when he’s back from holiday

Something in the air,

And it’s moving like a southbound train

Sun is going down,

And it seems like I’ll be the same

Now the drums are pounding, hear them blowing on the horn

Two hands are on the hammer, and the fabric has been torn

Dam’s about to burst, floods are all around

No more water, little Sylvie, ’cause I think I’m gonna drown

Yeah,

Ringing on the telephone, pick it up and say

What’s a man to do with all the trouble ’round today?

Heard it takes a worried man to sing a worried song

Sing it now, but Lord, don’t make it all go on too long

All go on too long

Stan Ridgway, “Afghan/Forklift”, Snakebite: Blacktop Ballads & Fugitive Songs