SFG: noir

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The challenge this week on sugarfrostedgoodness.com is “noir”.
You'll see it coming toward you, real slowly for a shake
I saw Scream” a few days ago on one of the many movie channels on cable television. I had seen it several times before. It’s not a great movie, but it is funny the way Wes Craven pokes fun at himself and the genre that made him famous.
The soundtrack features one of my favorite songs, Nick Cave’s “Red Right Hand”.
Nick Cave is an Australian musician, songwriter, author, screenwriter, and occasional actor. He is best known for his work with his band, the Bad Seeds, and his fascination with American music and its roots. He has a reputation, which he disowns and dislikes, for singing dark, brooding songs which some listeners regard as depressing. His music is characterised by intensity, high energy and a wide variety of influences. Cave’s music exhibits his obsessions with religion, death, love, America, and violence with a bizarre, eclectic blend of blues, gospel, rock, and punk. “Red Right Hand”, while obviously falling into the noir category, tells a story that is wide open to interpretation.

Take a litle walk to the edge of town/Go across the tracks
Where the viaduct looms,/like a bird of doom/As it shifts and cracks
Where secrets lie in the border fires,/in the humming wires
Hey man, you know/you’re never coming back
Past the square, past the bridge,/past the mills, past the stacks
On a gathering storm comes/a tall handsome man
In a dusty black coat with/a red right hand

He’ll wrap you in his arms,/tell you that you’ve been a good boy
He’ll rekindle all the dreams/it took you a lifetime to destroy
He’ll reach deep into the hole,/heal your shrinking soul
Hey buddy, you know you’re/never ever coming back
He’s a god, he’s a man,/he’s a ghost, he’s a guru
They’re whispering his name/through this disappearing land
But hidden in his coat/is a red right hand

You ain’t got no money?/He’ll get you some
You ain’t got no car? /He’ll get you one
You ain’t got no self-respect,/you feel like an insect
Well don’t you worry buddy,/cause here he comes
Through the ghettos and the barrio/and the bowery and the slum
A shadow is cast wherever he stands
Stacks of green paper in his
red right hand

You’ll see him in your nightmares,/you’ll see him in your dreams
He’ll appear out of nowhere but/he ain’t what he seems
You’ll see him in your head,/on the TV screen
And hey buddy, I’m warning/you to turn it off
He’s a ghost, he’s a god,/he’s a man, he’s a guru
You’re one microscopic cog/in his catastrophic plan
Designed and directed by
his red right hand



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