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A New Black Parade

Ever since Dad died, this song has taken on a deeper meaning – and it was pretty deep before then, so this one goes far down. For our fade-to-black fall, it gets resurrected and brought back with even greater resonance. Life does that – it sharpens some things, dulls others, and reconfigures the world in a way that makes you realize it was all perception and perspective – and hopefully in that realization there comes a certain peace. 

When I was a young boyMy father took me into the cityTo see a marching bandHe said, “Son, when you grow upWould you be the savior of the brokenThe beaten and the damned?”He said, “Will you defeat them?Your demons, and all the non-believersThe plans that they have made?”“Because one day, I’ll leave you a phantomTo lead you in the summerTo join the black parade”

A world that sends you reelin’From decimated dreamsYour misery and hate will kill us allSo paint it black and take it backLet’s shout it loud and clearDefiant to the end, we hear the call

Ever since I was a boy, I’ve felt old. Not physically, just in my head. I had no patience for childish nonsense, and all the silly things the other kids were doing. I felt weary, like I’d done it all before, and I was already tired. I felt jaded, not better than anyone – never better than anyone – just like there was nothing new under the sun. I felt entirely too serious for my own good, and my earnestness was never taken at face value, jumbling things up in my head even more. I felt stressed and worried – about everything. And what should have been one of the only truly carefree times in a person’s life was never meant to be, at least for me. 

Do or die, you’ll never make meBecause the world will never take my heartGo and try, you’ll never break meWe want it all, we wanna play this part
I won’t explain or say I’m sorryI’m unashamed, I’m gonna show my scarsGive a cheer for all the brokenListen here, because it’s who we are
Just a man, I’m not a heroJust a boy, who had to sing this songJust a man, I’m not a heroI don’t care
We’ll carry on, we’ll carry onAnd though you’re dead and gone, believe meYour memory will carry on
I cannot regret that, any more than anyone can regret things over which they had no control or say. Who knows why I felt that way, and what does it even matter at this point? That was a long time ago, and I’ve never been one to hold onto the past, even as I recognize the need for a reckoning about certain things that have occurred. For now, I think of my Dad when I hear this song, wondering how he would react to everything our world has become. I have my own idea of what his take would be on various situations, and it keeps me going. 
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