An examination of the historical role of "Graff" in song.
A bright light in these dark times
The Magic Ox Band were a spin off of the Magic Ox Theatre Group - a zany bunch of performers who used to do wild things at the old Albion Fayres.
Although the Band split up long ago, I feel the songs we did back then still deserve a listening today. Folk never goes out of fashion - it just matures nicely :-)
Story behind the song
Although I have never felt the need to "graff" myself - I have my songs - I do understand the need for making your mark on the world - no matter how small a mark that is.
I also admire good political graffitti that "tells it like it is" or allows you to see something from an angle you had never perceived. When I moved to the small Catalan town where I live there was a wonderful mural of Mrs Thatcher with her mouth open wide and bloody severed heads rolling out of it. It had been some locals response to the Falklands/Malvinas war. This song came about thanks to viewing some great political graff in London in the 1980s.
Lyrics
The Writing on the Wall
Belshazzar was feasting, when a hand appeared from nowhere,
Writing but three words which no-one there could understand.
He was advised to send for Daniel, of the enslaved Jewish nation –
The oppressed can often read the signs, the rich can’t comprehend.
“The first word is numbered, so shall your days be!
Weighed, the second, as your sins weigh heavy with the Lord.
Divided, the third, so shall be your kingdom!”
The first recorded slogan – an example to the poor!
CHORUS
Always there’ve been hands to write a message great or small
A slogan to warn tyrants that what has risen must one day fall
Or hands to carve a name, a phrase, celebrating life or a lover,
Poets of the street who paint the writing on the wall.
When they dug out the ruins of Pompeii they were covered in graffiti.
Evidence, the experts said, of a culture in decline.
But those words buried for centuries, were the thoughts of the subjugated,
Expressing slave’s opinions, not far removed from mine.
Some spoke of religion – hope springs eternal.
Some sang life’s praises – some wished that they had died.
Some spoke of peace; many spoke of freedom.
Others of forbidden love, unrequited, or long denied.
CHORUS
The successful have their outlets – the TV and the Papers.
To get across their message, that I’m here and here to stay.
The majority are silent; no-one knows of their existence,
Till their names appear at bus stops – often all they want to say.
Dreams, once they are written, can speak across the centuries,
Shouting out their truths in a voiceless exchange,
Spreading their vision, through hearts still open,
Pleading for a better world and crying out for change.
CHORUS
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