Boy 44

by Todd Clouser with John Medeski

Unreleased
Unreleased
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nt9RQOZ53L0
A song suite performed once inspired by the life of Jhosivanni Guerrero de La Cruz, missing since September 26th, 2014 in the Mexican state of Guerrero.



  • Lyrics Boy 44

    Instrumental. Introduction to piece.

    Boy_44__.pdf

  • Lyrics When I Grow Up

    When I grow Up

     

    God forgive a poor boy

    I am no good for what you need

    My eyes are barely white now

    Between my heart and mouth, Im hardening

     

    Hurt has dust the bright in me

    They call me black but they called me weak

    My body tied to Earth here

    I go but never leave

     

    When I grow up

    Im gonna wear my head right

     

    Fiction heart walk with me

    Take my shoes, lift my knees

    Like a willow sun in winter heat

    I ask for alone, not sympathy

     

    Passing from the savage tongues

    Farmed by wooden window sun

    The wild wide open Earth

    The cities and their spitting guns

     

    Im gonna tell them all where I came from

    Im gonna tell them all where I came from

     

    When I grow up Im gonna make me a living

     

    SHEET MUSIC _When_I_grow_Up.pdf

  • Story Lyrics What They Gonna Do With All That Money?

    Child mother

    work your lungs

    there’s no place like

    the two you’re from

     

    they’ll sew us apart

    we were so tight

    But Jesus talks

    to you at night

     

    The weather’s songs

    And vicious sun

    Im sorry morning

    but my heart is bored

     

    My aging knees

    roughed and thin

    the ground and time

    Have broke the skin

     

    I’m already moving on x3

     

    Counting down

    my steps to none

    The weak are the boys

    with the blood on their guns

     

    Smells like spring

    but it hurts like hell

    I worked me torn

    I woke up and fell

     

    Im already moving on

     

    He begged and sinned

    And sinned and cried

    They gave him liquor

    He took their lives

     

    Everyone here

    Looks so tired

    They look so blank

    Their tongues of liars

     

    Im already moving on

     

    What they gonna do with all that money, that money, that money 

     

    MONEY__Boy_44.pdf

  • Story Lyrics Somebody's Watching You

    Do we have to speak about it?

    What do I need about it?

    Come hear and howl about it

    Make your lips 

     

    Do I need to bleed about it

    Do we have to beg

    Do I have to lose my voice about it

    Do I have to die about it too

     

    Everybody Here is wanting to see you weak

    Everybody here

     

    Have you made mistakes about it?

    Are you lying too?

    Have you tried to think about it?

    If Boy 44 was you

     

    Cause everybody here wants the same thing

    Everybody here thats awake

     

    How will they not forget about it?

    Unbreak their hearts anew

    How won’t they tell the truth about it?

    Until its their sons too?

     

    Cause everybody here wants the same thing

    Everybody here thats awake

     

     

    Everybody here is you and me

    Everybody here learned bad

     

    They Been Watching You

     

    _Somebodys_Been_Watchnig_You_from_Boy_44_bak.pdf

  • Lyrics He's Not Gone

    He's Not Gone, He's Just Waiting x4

    Waiting, Waiting somewhere you can't see

  • Lyrics You The Brave

     

    You are not solely information

    You cannot be purchased

    You are not the sum of your skills

    You are not your clickings

    Your information has a soul

    You are not the one who buys the product for the picture

    You are not this person

     

    You are not the calculated risk

    You are not the percentage probability of the focus men

    You are not the possessor of a single language

    You are of no country

    You are not afraid

     

    You are not a product or a consumer

    You are not a product and its consumer

    You are not consuming yourself

    You are not produced by your consumption

    You are not skin and bones

     

    You are not in need of belonging

    You are not concerned about how you are perceived

    You are not being lied to

    You do not allow yourself to be lied to

    You do not lie to yourself

    You yourself are not a liar

     

    You are not desperate to purchase a home

    You are not desperate

    You are not desperate

    You are not desperate

    You are not desperate

    You are not desperate

     

    Remember that whats important is not importance

    And that its going to take getting up on your own

     

    You are star dust, Mother tears, River ash, Wonder Sun, Brave Brave Brave Brave Brave, Triumph triumph triumph, new, new new end of lie end lies end of lies, You You You You You The Brave

     _You_the_Brave.pdf

  • Lyrics Bread And Circus

    South of the imaginary lines

    where the uniformed and ironed men and and women that look like boys and girls, skin on the face still soft, 

    wear their gloves and glasses

    bad men are winning the imaginary wars they’ve begun so they could win them

     

    Jhosivani put his feet to the ground he slept on this morning

    dark toes and light palms

    the merry go round Earth

    4 kilometers down the wild vein roads cut between

    the complete canvas greens where his cousins and father and Uncles cut and culled beauty

     

    to the bus and the sings, where there are, look cheap and weathered but the women are still pretty, he was wise enough to not love them

    The politicians are the heroes they will tell you, photos of feeding young Indian women and boys, places they would never go if not for the photograph

     

    Jhosivani has no numbers or cards in banks or machines, he exists because his heart does

    his mother still loves him with loud command on the baby city green ride to the schools that might take him somewhere someday

     

    After they cut them down,

     

     People paid attention for a while, they wrote and made videos and sold them

     But the wicked came with Bread and Circus

      Bread and Circus for the City

    pan y circo para el pueblo

     

    Today he is reading stories of revolutions and dignity, the wind blows the page corners through the bus windows

    He is adding numbers with his fingers while the taxis turn and the sun crawls from its sleep

     

    He’s the type of boy who looks straight to your eyes, but not through them

    He’ll give you a chance

     

    The government is letting the grass grow tall between school and town

    On streets named after people they surely would murder 

     

    Everybody know the president here is type of man who looks to your eyes but you know his heart is looking somewhere else, he came once after the boys were cut down, 

     

    The governor’s men say they shot and burned Jhosivani’s friends, the boys he slept next to and one time, by the whistle trees, sang a song about Christmas

    He asks about justice and most of the women he wanted to love disappear

     

    murdered and martyred, he’s gone too

     

     

     When they shot them up

     People paid attention for a while

     Until the wicked came

     With Bread and Circus

      Bread and Circus for the City

     

     

    All Jhosivani asks, gone now, was for dignity before he grows up 

    Just that no one forgets dignity can exist

    He wants the blood you have be treated as no more precious than the blood that shoots around the veins of the boy on the city bus in Guerrero

     

    The president still flies in his own airplane to meet businessmen and women and drug dealers and the most powerful boys in the world. He takes vacations

     

     And when we worry

      People pay attention for a while

     Until the wicked come

     With Bread and Circus

     Bread and Circus for the City

     

NOTES
Performance April 11, 2015 in Mexico City as part of the festival Ars Futura.

"Intense and Magnificent" - Conexion Rock

Jhosivani Guerrero De La Cruz walked 4 kilometers every morning to catch the bus to the school where he was studying to be a teacher, his dream, in the Mexican state of Guerrero. On September 26, 2014, Jhosivanni was one of 43 students kidnapped and “disappeared” by state police. His family in the ranching community of Omeapa still search for answers.
The world should be a better place.
The music John Medeski and I presented at ArsFutura 2015 is inspired by the life of Jhosivanni Guerrero de La Cruz.
No one should ever know tragedy this wicked.


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