Hopium – an irrational, unfounded belief that a situation is going to improve, despite all evidence to the contrary.
New music from Trent Boswell
Here’s a new song. This one is a blues rock piece.
People usually say, “The vocal part isn’t loud enough,” so I made it nice and loud in this one. To my ears, I think it’s a little too loud. You can let me know in the comments what you think.
Either way, hit the thumbs up 👍 and share ⬆️ with your friends if you like it.
I posted this song before, but I have entirely remixed it. The new mix sounds far superior to the original. I also shortened the title from “Tales of War On Venus” to “War on Venus.”
Lyrics:
We sit, swapping war stories We’ve barred all the windows and doors Each of us covered in blood Half of it mine, half of it yours
Two chairs, sitting face to face The room is bare, otherwise Suspiciously watching each other for Sudden movements, any shift in the eyes
There’s a word for why we’re here The trap, it fits us like a glove Explains all the mess and the misery And that four-letter word is love
Pause long enough to take a shot From the big bottle of poison We’re not much but we’re all that we’ve got We sweat bullets and swear “You’re the one. You’re the only one for me.”
Weapons at the ready, there in our laps Fingers never far from the trigger No one smiles, no one eats or sleeps Shots of whiskey and resentment get bigger
It’s no mystery how or where We both know who’s to blame, we insist Each of us swearing that the other struck first It was a case of love at first fist
There’s a word for why we’re here This trap, it fits us like a glove Explains all the mess and misery And that four-letter word is love
i need to run pleeze set me loose to run in the yard i am a good dog im not too bryte you beat me but its ok i was bad i still love you i takes cares of you bestest i can i wrap my teefs around the bones of any bad peoples trys to harm you i rip the balls off anybody tries to hurt you ill live on one meal a week its ok i dont need no mental stima-lashuns i dont know what dem things is no persunal space them are just words i dont know what thems mean anyway i will lick your feet you will be happy i will be happy i dont need no time time dont ezist for me ezept when you gos away then i am a very sad if i had hands i would clean up my poop so you wouldnt have to stoop down and do it becuz its beneath you it must be beneath you becuz you dont do it much as littel as possibal i wish i could do it for you i dont need nuthin i wantz to run in sercals for you make you laff beg fer your attenshunz pleeze may i do tricks for you lick your face you snatch me up scruff of my neck i dont make no fuss yor the boss i deserve to be choked you warned me last time i already learn that lesson wounds almost healed up now its ok it was my fault i will not be bad no more sorry i interupted your favrit show with my dumb stuff my thirsties my hungerz me bein chokd on the chain around my neck i was just bein selfish i sorry i do better next time pet me pleeze i love you
I see the blood that spills in the streets Can practically smell the gunpowder air Tasting the ashes, bitter on my tongue I hear the explosions, but I am not there
I cannot claim to fathom their fear Or say that I know the depth of their dread I’ve not had to bear the loss of loved ones Nor have I the need to step over the dead
I live far away from the noise of the horror I close my eyes with no fear of sleeping No aid raid sirens awaken me rudely I read in peace, tea silently steeping
Pictures and articles pour in daily Videos making me a bit more aware I know it’s happening; I know that it’s real But the sadness I feel does not compare
I hear children crying, and nothing stops it I see the confusion and pain in their eyes I smell the smoke and festering wounds But the foulest odor is the stench of lies
A well-heeled madman’s misinformation Distorted guile drips from his tongue Slanderous justifications for the slaughter Of unknown thousands, old and young
But my food is hot; my belly is full I don’t hide underground or need to run There are no tanks parked out on my lawn My hands are empty; they hold no gun
I don’t have a gas mask close at all times My roads are clear, my home is intact The power to stop the storm is not mine It rages on, and the sky is blacked
I cannot order the attack to halt And to send in support is not my decision I don’t determine the fate of anyone else I need not defend my political vision
No sons or daughters go off to fight Because of anything that I say or do But war will not cease of its own accord No moving of money makes it less true
I can say kind things and show my support The only thing worse is not even to care The words I say, meaningless, useless It’s easy for me, for I am not there
If I believed it, I’d say, “Wait. Do nothing; Or else he may set the whole world afire.” I could say I believe to hold back is better But were I to say it, I would be a liar
Powerless, unable to stop a mass murder Intervention may mean the death of us all So, we answer the cry for help by saying, “We pray for you and hope you don’t fall.”
To cover our fears of atomic destruction Supportive words hang on digital display Perhaps if we allow the bully his toy He’ll go no further after getting his way
If only it were true that a taste of victory Made conquerors quit; one land controlled The wanton wishes of children who know Nothing of madmen, bloodthirsty, bold
I cannot assist in their hour of darkness Or insist that others answer the pleading My heart hurts for those brave defenders But my pain is painless; I am not bleeding
I cannot say “Fight,” nor can I say “Wait.” It’s not my problem or burden to bear After all, it’s easy to speak in abstractions It’s easy for me because I am not there
I find myself weeping But I’m not weeping for me Not for anything I might have missed Or anything that I had hoped to be
It’s not because of some thing I desired But did not manage to attain It’s not something I had that I didn’t want Nor any of my own physical pain
It’s not for me, I had room to move I rolled the dice and they fell as they did But I took my chances, I took my shots I went for it all and from life, never hid
Sure, things could have turned out better I could have had an easier time But I know not everyone gets to win To the top, only a handful climb
Still, all-in-all, at the end of things, I did OK and better than many I had sorrows and joys, resources and gifts I got to spend my talents, every last penny
Yet, generations are coming behind me Emerging from the dark of the womb Into a darker world, for which we’ve not Prepared them, nor should we assume
That somehow, they’ll just be alright That they’ll manage some way, to sort the mess That some miracle solution will present itself Or that God or good luck will bless
Nor should we think it likely the case That hard work will see them through it all Nor in hubris, think what stands today Will not, tomorrow, surely fall
Least of all, we should not dare To turn blind eyes to their plight Out of sight is out of mind But by no means makes it right
Having turned over each, useless stone After turning my wheels, digging in deep With no useful advice or answers, for them I bury my face in my hands and weep
From the black book of horrifying, awful, terrible and frightening things that will keep you up late at night and drive you to drink too much and too often, Out On The Killing Floor
Available on Amazon
WARNING!!! Take only as prescribed. Keep out of reach from children, pets, pregnant women and anyone who still has any hope for the future. May cause sleeplessness, fatigue, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts or visions of impending doom. Some readers may experience weight… not weight gain, just the heavy weight of existential dread. User assumes all risk and releases the author from any and all legal liability. This book is not approved by the FDA or anyone else who enjoys being happy. May be illegal in your area.
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