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Throw Up Empty Hands
Out Of The Woodwork V
© April 20, 2002 by Gary E. Andrews
All Right Reserved for the Globe

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Am XO221O
G 32OOO3
F X33211

After all the things you've done,
You still don't know,
What the pointing Major means,
As he points down the road.
After all the things you've seen,
You still don't understand.
You're unprepared.
When real war comes.
You'll Throw Up Empty Hands.

After all is said and done,
Much more is said than done,
Actors run across the green,
Playing with swords and guns.
After all these Passion Plays,
Are done to Death again,
You still don't know just what God means.
You Throw Up Empty Hands.

After opportunity,
Has knocked upon your door,
You just say, "Hey! What? Who? Me?"
You don't ask what for.
After all the things you were taught,
You still don't have a plan.
After all the things you said,
Throw Up Empty Hands.
Throw Up Empty Hands.
Throw Up Empty Hands.

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Throw Up Empty Hands © April 20, 2002
All Rights Reserved For The Globe

The second song I wrote after moving in 2002. Moving was tedious, repetitious work, and lots of it. I had a jillion books. I hadn't had time to play in months and I guess anything I heard was a pleasure to hear and play. I'd fall into bed and tiredly drag the guitar over on top of me, play a song two, enjoying it too much to give in to insistent sleep. The bass stepping down and around through the progression was addictive. The desire to sing something, no matter how meaningless, and the contrivance to make it sound meaningful, kept me up late two nights in a row.