||Zack, the Elder--drums
|Short Song Description:
|Long Song Description:
San Jacinto was the name of my first school. It was named after the battle in which Texas defeated Mexico, winning it's independence. Individually, the lessons of our past are constantly under siege. As the years pass we are tested by time as it sniffs and pokes at our characters, searching for hidden flaws. We are graded according to how well we maintain the dignity imparted to us in our formative years when later it is inevitably assailed by the vicissitudes of fortune. Every man must know moments when he passes a mirror into the past and unintentionally glimpses his youthful image by which his present degeneration is suddenly and savagely revealed.
|Story Behind the Song:
Collectively, we, ie, societies, are subject to the same destructive force of gratuitous change, just as certain and just as methodical, and probably more irresistible, as that exerted against the individual. That tradition is the result of a long experiment conducted in the laboratory of society by Professor Time in which many variables are randomly introduced into a societal equation to determine which practices are beneficent and which are harmful, is never considered by the proselytes of "progress through change". This irrationality is always extant in any state, from clan to country, usually laying dormant awaiting the opportunity to spring forth. It is only once "the ramparts" become "rotten" that these blind forces for change are allowed to grow and from that moment, the eventual death of that society is assured. The changes that begin to occur in the laws and traditions of the once stable state are merely symptoms of a much greater illness-- the society itself has gradually but profoundly been weakened and can no longer resist the forces of foolishness.
In ancient times it was believed that the gods deserted a city on the eve of its destruction. The philosophers were periodically banished from Athens and Rome for stirring up trouble.
San Jacinto's under siege
by the wrecking ball.
The rotten ramparts have been breached
barbarians spill through the walls,
The citizens now are trying to reach
the citadel before it falls.
The philosophers have been banished
But I think that its too late
The population, now frail and famished
--too weak to close the gate
The princes and the priests have gradually vanished
And left us here to find our fate.
The gods are angry, they hear false prophets preach,
Of grinning idols bringing foreign laws.
Turning away, they're always the first leave
A doomed city on the twilight of its fall.
The gods are angry, they know their altars reek
Of half burned offerings smothering their flame.
Over their shoulder they watch our women weep
For their children herded off in chains.
The armies of time never respect
ancient relics of the temple.
No sanctuary can the damned expect,
no sacred refuge can he enter.
The general forever on the march directs
no quarter to a dying whimper.