After a couple of false starts and a difficult birth the long awaited Ian Bland CD “Everything and Nothing” and his first book of poetry “Bland On Bland” have sprung forth fully formed and lustily bawling.
“Everything and Nothing” is a cinematic special starring a motley company of individuals. The songs are each a musical story, whether semi-autobiographical gems, gleaned conversations or plucked from current events, each deliver a condensed and precise serving of observed truth.
The Lamington String band led by Ian Bland, featuring Ed Bates, Greg Hunt, Peter Anderson, Nathan Farrelly, Mark Stanley and joined by a host of other notable musicians, as usual add their own measure of polish to this the third Ian Bland solo album.
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lyrics
A Belated Reflection On Bob Dylan’s “i Pity The Poor Immigrant” Fifty Years After The Fact
When neighbours turn against neighbours
Friends disappear without trace
Your only crime is the god you serve
Your name, your gender, your race
Hatred can burn generations
We pass down the misery
I pity the poor immigrant but I weep for the refugee
A knock on the door in the dead of night
And you don’t see your husband again
Your sons are both in the army
And the eldest is not even ten
When the choice is killing or dying
Is that what it means to be free?
I pity the poor immigrant but I weep for the refugee
We kill in the name of religion
Power and greed trigger wars
The innocent are the ones who pay
Regardless how noble the cause
Who’s there to pick up the pieces?
Scattered amongst the debris
I pity the poor immigrant but I weep for the refugee
A bullet won’t wait while an old man runs
A bomb can’t choose who it harms
A mine doesn’t care if you’re enemy
Or a girl with a babe in her arms
When your name is collateral damage
When you’re lucky, you’re just an amputee
I pity the poor immigrant but I weep for the refugee
You have no home and no country
You have no shoes on your feet
You live in a camp without shelter
Dirty water and nothing to eat
When fear leaves you so desperate
You’ll take your chance in the sea
I pity the poor immigrant but I weep for the refugee