[Frank]

Vulgar vs. Mr J


vulgar

Roman was a wiry chap, noncompliant, nonchalant as can be
His in & out of school antics weren't what his papa wanted to see
He'd pop a molly with thieves, when cops had knocked him for trees
The way his mother bellowed at him would've put Pavarotti at ease

Roman is an Italian name / metaphor / character -- and Pavarotti is perhaps their most famous opera singer. It end you say they were Polish though. Little off right there.


A sprouting adolescent, doing foolish things as only a young man can
but yet his heart was in the right place - like successful Frankenstein transplants
Pointy nose, raspy voice, he answered "yes" at the knock at the door
Then gunshots conjured a force that made his mom and pops drop to the floor

II.

Max was not only meticulous with his hands, he was a heartbreaker

When you say "not only meticulous with his hands" you do so without a premise. "Not only" comes after a sequence of previous events involving the hands. Unless you were trying to conjure story line out of the air.

Girls tried to turn back time - but his father was a watchmaker
born with malice engraved, he always loved the scent of trouble
What he lacked on common decency, he made up for with extensive hustle
^good sense of morals here. Created a personal touch.

he'd ascend a couple of staircases, handing out biodegradable drugs
^dope
No patience, no trust, confrontations were rough -
And when the chips were down, and morale had caved in enough
Godlessness was purveyor, instructor, town mayor & judge
He had no time to get involved with a selfish broad
His uncle Stanislaw used to say "plus the Nazi's don't exactly help the cause..."

III.

Henryk was no artillery man, he'd had thin, embalmed, gentle hands
^why do you keep comparing and contrasting their hands? I'm not following.
A bookworm all his life, loyal member of the synagogue temple band
^jewish reference here, but I thought they were polish? lol

Now he's loading in the clips - ones that were preferably light
Earnestly striped, the university type, doing duty to quell Germany's strike
^united nations?

Was it futile? Would the resistance come crashing down to bits?
He was devastated... his wife & kids perished when his house got hit
Those rogue bunker busters; I guess it's likely true, that life is cruel
The cold world in which we live is one giant, icy pool
^dope line, visual, not exactly a summarization of the events leading up to the line, but it was a cool, sporadic, doomy gloomy line
IV. Epilogue

These three ordinary city men had two things in common:
One, they were Polish citizens and kept the passion alive
Two, when the war came calling, they got drafted & died
^good stern no none sense story telling here except the holes in the story really collapse any factuality.

I've concluded that the world's a dead dimension, the blacklisted kind
turned my back on the shrine, living during these blasphemous times
Having faith is like being ravaged and blind, ignoring labyrinth signs
in a realm where frosty particles flounder about & pathogens glide
Three Polish gentlemen - one everlasting demise
A grim reality for spirits destined to pass through the Rhine
^
I like this segment, even if it's really 3 European gentleman ; an italian, a jew, and a pollac. no linear, sole, unmistakable element all 3 shared. simply solid characterization, little sketchy cause you did not bring them all together, instead chose to discard them. I wasn't feeling that. good bunker soviet union feel to this verse though. Even though you were describing a russian the whole time and kept given them other nationalities

Mr. J

The moment is gone, the feeling is lost, every last emotion is absent
frozen in time like..that's it...the story ended, but never the attraction
it continues to be a part of me, you can hear the stress in my accent
the anger that remains passive..I continue pushing away til' it pulls me back in
I can no longer fight it, it's in my gene's to continue acting out this pattern
I can't change what happened but I always catch myself trying to imagine it
it's not about what mattered then, but now...and that's what the challenge is
correction of past motives that remain captured in the mind with how to handle it
through each reenactment it makes me feel weaker....mad & sick...
I had enough of trying to be the one that separated onto a different path to live
yet I'm here...explaining to you that there's more to me & what I have to give
I let myself free from what was left for me, because it all lacked depth to me
it made me feel empty...to the point that there was nothing else left to see
a fading memory that made me feel like rehabilitation was just another step to me
a mile long discrepancy, with my own foreshadow standing right next to me
taking the last of my energy, making me realize that this is all rudimentary
there's a lack of sense in me...a disappearance of thought
and the more I think about it I no longer feel coherent at all
but I'm here & I'm on another path that's leaving me fearing the fall
knowing when you disappear or your gone, finished hearing it all
you'll only see me exhibit what I knew, and I was clearly at fault
but you show no difference in your motive, or appearance of thought
your emotionless & I feel like you were never seriously awed...
approving in what I've become, I'm fine though, I'm finally hearing the call
the disappearance is fine, it left me nearly distraught
since I've been standing in this museum....I know you'll never hear me at all
Its truly a cold world because all I have left are these mannequins
A path they left for me to walk on and learn how to truly be a man again
a native american exhibit used as an exposé to shed light on our differences...our establishment...
disbanding further fury by setting flame to this place would only further my abandonment...
for what I thought would heal the wounds left over the centuries
but even then....this world would be quick to brush off the memory
and all it ever meant to me

Cold flow


MVGT - Mr J