#it's an old song- an old tale it's a tragedy

[storm-and-the-stars]

Hadestown is such a great musical, and one of the things it does is have a framing device is explicitly this! It's an old song, it's a love song, it's a sad song, it's a tragedy, but we're gonna sing it again, we keep singing even so. See, someone's got to tell the tale/Whether or not it turns out well/Maybe it will turn out this time. We're gonna sing it again.

Musicals are time loops. Every night, the same thing happens except for a few minor differences. It always ends the same. If you want the characters to do something different or to make better choices, too bad. The actors are bound by the script and the score. The only way for the time loop to end is for the show to close. But you (the audience) don't want the show to close, nor do the actors who would like to be employed. It's a lose/lose situation. For the actors, audience, technicians, and for the characters, who are forever stuck in the same stretch of time.

[monotonous-minutia]

I spent like a week working on this like it was some kind of school project.

anyway here's a thing I made.

[fanfoolishness]

I like to imagine that in the future, people remember the clones. After Palpatine falls for good on Exegol, imagine an explosion of freedom and knowledge in those days after the final defeat: imagine archaeologists and scholars plumbing the depths of Imperial and First Order records, trying to figure out what had happened so it could never happen again. And through it all they find the clones’ story woven into everything, until a new field emerges of Clone Studies, a loose alliance of military history buffs and research biologists and anthropologists and ethicists.

They catalogue the Kaminoans’ research; they review the clone memorials on Coruscant, on Zeffo, monuments as large as a massive wall or as small as a quiet statue, from people throughout the galaxy who were grateful for what they did. They study the great tragedy and betrayal of the chip, finally understanding the scope of Palpatine’s plans and bringing them out into the open, sharing the truth that the clones never chose to betray the Jedi Order and Republic they had served faithfully. They study old war vids and oral histories from people of long-lived species or whose grandparents remembered the clones; they build, memory by memory, a sense of the culture, the camaraderie, the brotherhood, the loyalty. They collect vids of battle songs and in-jokes and an interior language shared among them, springing up over the years.

They find and list their names, self-chosen or given by their brothers: Rex, Fives, Howzer, Echo, Tup, Gregor, Wolffe, Cody, Boil, Waxer, Cut. They study the clones whose differences defined them and knit them into a family whose ties could not be broken, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair, Omega. They study the discarded who nevertheless still had value - 99, Emerie, the clones who were culled in infancy for being wrong. There are specialists who devote their entire branch of study to the only male unaltered clone and his infamous exploits throughout the galaxy, so alike his father’s. They study the years of the clone rebellion, a fight that paved the way for the next wave of fighters and the next after them.

The clones are gone. That is undisputed. Their kind came for a little while, and then vanished, burning brightly; their tale was a tragedy, but one unique in all its seeming sameness. There are conferences and holovids and books. There are debates and research firing up young scholars about a time only their great-grandparents can remember.

In the future, after all the clones are gone, there are still stories.

[homunculus-argument]

The one of the things about being a latter half millenial is how the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy boom happened right on those developing years that you can remember, when you were old enough to understand things but didn't really know much of the world before that. And now you're an adult and every time you hear a fragment of a familiar melody, you're hit with childhood nostalgia of this tale.

A story of a world in decline, where those who came before you lament of how much better things were in those old glorious days of a more prosperous age that will never come again. Knowing that you'll never quite grasp the tragedy of the ruins you walk past, because they've always been only ruins to you. You only know that the world is growing darker, and the best you can do is find your own hope, and make the best of the time you were given.

You hear a song in Quenya and it hits you all at once how your childhood nostalgia is woven into songs sung in a tongue you don't understand, from a world you've never been to, lamenting the loss of a better age that you never knew.

[ginathethundergoddess]

Sorry i went off in the tags

hermes in hadestown is the exact opposite of an unreliable narrator. a tortured narrator. a little *too* reliable. incredibly aware of exactly what is happening at any given moment, vaguely spoiling it for you in the beginning, despairing every second of it. but ultimately motivated to continue to tell the story over and over and over with a smiling face for the sake of the audience, and for the sake of the characters themselves, singing it again to keep them alive. knowing how it will end, but singing it again so that the cycle may restart and eurydice may come back to life. enduring the misery of it all, over and over, holding the knowledge of what will come to pass but continuing anyway to see orpheus happy just one more time before it all goes down in flames again.

[15-lizards]

Do you guys think that as time passes Robb’s story gets turned into a folk tale…a cautionary story for children…a story rooted in truth but the real details are lost. A boy king marches south looking for justice for his good father but gets betrayed by the people he trusted too much…he gets turned into a beast, half boy and half wolf, forgetting who he is and living among the forest. The riverlanders say that you can hear the wolf king howl when you’ve been lied to, and that he scavenges the woods, pouncing on liars and betrayers. And his mother, so mad with grief, stalks riverbanks at nights, her face torn to bloody ribbons, attacking similar victims, but preferring the ones with blonde hair. Little children hear scary tales of Lady Stoneheart and the Wolf King and are too frightened to ever tell a lie. Men sit in taverns, singing sad drinking songs about a mother and child draped in tragedy. Girls sit about with their needlework, sighing at the true love the Wolf King died for, his fair queen who he put above all others, even himself. Robb Stark is betrayed, and this is true. But time twists the truth. Truth fades into story fades into legend. And he is forgotten, nothing more than a symbol in an old tale.

[medievalthymes]

me explaining to anyone that will listen my headcanon that rote is a time loop. we’re reading fitz’ story but his story is his memories that he put into the stone wolf so the reader IS the stone wolf as we store his memories in us and they just keep going every time we pick up the book again for a reread. that’s why it’s so cathartic to go back to the start when you finish the series. It’s an old song. It’s a sad song. A tale from way back when. It’s a tragedy. And we’re gonna sing it again���

[joelswritingmistress]

Camp Crystal Lake: Chapter 1

Requested by @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz

Joel Miller x f!reader (romance/horror)

Setting: Camp Crystal Lake

The reader is taking on the position of a camp counselor at the infamous Camp Crystal Lake. While she begins to enjoy her summer, even crushing on the camp director Joel, a killer lurks in the woods unbeknownst to anyone. 

Every town in North America has a ghost story. Some are well kept secrets, and others are so notorious that the sins of those tales have spread far and wide, to every dark corner of the earth. Crystal Lake was a sterling example of such a place. It had a typical sounding name, really, for a fresh body of water in the middle of the New England woods. But the stories surrounding the area were anything but typical.

As a young child, I remember hearing his name being said on the playgrounds at school. Jason. It didn’t take me long to insert myself into conversations in an attempt to hear the details of whatever version of the story the older kids were spreading. Back then it didn’t matter if they were fact or fiction. I stayed up late, wide eyed staring at every dark corner of my bedroom after hearing tales of Jason Voorhees. Now, at 22 years old and about to enter the summer as a counselor at Camp Crystal Lake, those distant, childish memories made me grin; though when my rusty, Jeep Wrangler bounced down the uneven road past the wooden Camp Crystal Lake sign, the hairs rose just a bit on the back of my neck.

“I thought you outgrew superstition,” I said quietly to myself as a song ended on my playlist, leaving me in a few extra seconds of silence to take in the wooded surroundings.

Jason Voorhees. The name still creeped everyone out. Yes, there had been a tragedy that happened decades earlier. Jason Voorhees was real; but after several attacks on counselors and residents alike, a boy named Tommy Jarvis managed to put Jason to rest permanently.

I shuddered and reminded myself that that was decades ago. I wasn’t even alive when it all happened. And this new camp wasn’t anywhere near the original location of the attacks on that Friday the 13th back in the 80’s.

I saw a pale yellow VW Bug parked up ahead next to a blue Ford pickup truck. On the opposite side of the truck was a Bronco with about as much rust as my Jeep. I began to wonder what my coworkers would be like. Would they be my age? Younger? Older? Local? I was about to find out.

I parked in the clearing beside the VW and stared out at the lake a few hundred yards away. There was a small beach with a towering, white lifeguard stand in the center and a wooden raft floating too not far from the patch of sand. If nothing else, it would be a great summer gig with a view. The campers wouldn’t be here for several weeks and I knew getting the place ready would call for some physical labor. I never minded hands-on work, and I was sure it would give us all time to bond.

When I exited the vehicle, a breeze hit me from the water and I shuddered, despite the temperatures nearing eighty degrees on the late June afternoon. My eyes scanned the trees on all sides and I suddenly wondered where everyone was. I let farfetched ‘what-ifs’ filter through my mind for a second before smirking to myself.

Grow up, I scolded myself lightheartedly. The imaginative part of me still enjoyed the folklore, no matter how juvenile it felt.

I popped open the back of the Jeep and reached in to grab my suitcase, an oversized gym bag and a backpack that housed the majority of my clothes. I had a few stray boxes with makeup and hair products, among other toiletries, though I decided I’d come back for them later.

Again, I took in my surroundings. For some reason I half-expected to see a group of young people out-and-about in the immediate area upon arrival. The silence was beginning to hit my psyche harder than I’d like to admit, and so I stared up at an oversized cabin with wooden paneling and headed in that direction.

A hammock swung empty on a giant front porch that was littered with chairs and small tables in between. Above them hung metal lighting fixtures, some of which were swinging in the summer breeze.

And then I heard a sound I could only compare to clicking. It was like a clock, almost. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I set my suitcase down near the bottom step and shrugged the gym bag off my shoulder so it rested beside it, leaving my backpack on. And then I followed the sound.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

What is that?

I swallowed hard as the noise grew louder. It stopped for a second and then there was a louder noise. A faint bang. And then a pause. Another bang.

What the hell is that?

I rounded the side of the two-story cabin and peeked my head around to see if I could get a glimpse of whatever, or whoever, was responsible for the sound. Visions of Jason Voorhees and his menacing hockey mask left my mind immediately when the truth revealed itself.

A muscular man in a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows swung an ax, connecting with a giant log of wood. It split into two, sending little shards flying into the air. He wiped his forehead with his arm and then reached for another.

I wasn’t sure if I should tiptoe back to the front porch or interrupt him, but my mind was made up by default when he slowly turned in my direction. When he smiled beneath a mustache, I blushed and glanced at the open area of his chest where a few buttons were undone.

“Hello.” He gave a wave and wiped sweat off his forehead again before removing a pair of work gloves.

I raised my hand and swallowed hard. “Hi.”

The man approached and extended an arm in my direction. I stared down at his hand for a second before joining mine to his in a handshake. Our eyes met and I felt my eyebrows raise unwillingly.

“I’m Joel Miller,” he introduced himself, slightly out of breath. “I did the phone interview with you back in March and a second one in April. (Y/N), right?”

“Yeah.” I nodded and cleared my throat with a smile.

“I’m the camp director,” he informed me with a nod.

“Nice to meet you.” My hand was still in his and finally they parted.

Joel nodded in agreement. “I’m just finishing up here. I think we have one more person to arrive today before the rest come in the middle of the week. You can get yourself settled in whatever room is still available and I’ll be in in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” I nodded, “Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

When he smiled again I might as well have turned to stone. Who knew my boss for the summer would be such a.. hunk.

Well shit. It’s thirty seconds into the summer and I’m already crushing on my boss. I added, what a lovely predicament.

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER

@cattt777 @gissellec1

[starry-bi-sky]

Anon if you’re still here I did a drawing of that fem danny girlie from a while ago so here she is:

ONE OF MY BRAINWORMS WAS ABOUT FEM DANYAL SOUNDING LIKE ERIS!!! Another one was the giant lady "You look lonely, I can fix that", that's just so *screams into the void*

I don't know why, but the idea that Fem Phantom would be giant or small depending on her who she's (platonically? Maybe? I don't know) flirting is just so good!!!!!

I have a type. I'm just ending this here before I go crazy

nah because you and me are on the eXACT FUCKING WAVELENGTH BECAUSE I HAVE THOUGHT THAT EXACT SAME THING like literally two weeks ago. Specifically it was about my fem danny girlie from my amnesia jason excerpt (link at the bottom of my DPxDC masterpost I should totally make a post about her soon honestly) bUT MY POINT STILL STANDS.

Like specifically giantess phantom! Like, 7ft-9ft-10ft however tall frost giant fem Danny Phantom. And she can adjust her size accordingly depending on convenience. She's got a maximum and a minimum height she can go. I'm more specifically imagining older Phantom who would just. Lean down, hair curtaining around whoever she's flirting with, and spit out some flirty line in a lower, slightly raspy voice

[holly-mckenzie]

I’m not like any man you’ve met. Oh yeah? What makes you different? You see the world? Of course I do. I’ll make it beautiful for you. For you I’ll change the way it is. With what? [ORPHEUS, holds up guitar] With this!

It’s an old song It’s an old tale from way back when It’s an old song And we’re gonna sing it again and again... It’s a sad song.. It’s a sad tale, it’s a tragedy.

nytw hadestown appreciation  →  The Tragedy of Orpheus

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Doubt Comes In (Hadestown)

Who am I?/Where do I think I'm goin'?/(Doubt comes in)/Who am I?/Why am I all alone?/(Doubt comes in)/Who do I think I am?/Who am I to think that she would follow me into the cold and dark again?

"Hadestown is a retelling of the myth Orpheus and Eurydice and this is the song where Orpheus begins to doubt that Eurydice is behind him and ultimately he turns around. This song fucks me up because it’s like the ultimate climax of Orpheus character arc over the musical, how he has become so jaded by the world, gone from “seeing the world as it could be” to “seeing the world as it is” whereas every other character around him has become less jaded and hopeful and it’s like the epitome of the ultimate tragedy of the musical: that the one character responsible for giving everyone else hope and belief in the world again is the one who has lost his own hope. He feels both that he can’t trust the word of Hades that Eurydice is behind him and also insecurity in himself, he can’t understand why Eurydice would come back with him/follow him when she was the one that left him in the first place because she could not wait for him. And most of all, the lyrics “Who am I?/ Where do I think I'm goin'?…” etc. echo lyrics sung by the Fates earlier in the musical which show the inevitability of this ending, that this is how the story was always going to end: in a tragedy and in loss"

The Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace (The Amazing Devil)

'Cause I've been here so many times before/Don't you think I look pretty/Curled up on this bathroom floor/But where you see weakness I see wit/Sometimes I fall to pieces/Just to see what bits of me don't fit/'Cause when I stand, oh all those folks will run/And tell the tales of what I've become/They'll speak of me in whispered tones/And say my name like it shakes their bones

"GIRL (gender neutral). It’s so unbelievably Hannibal (NBC) coded. Even the bio on genius.com is Hannibal coded. I was making up a dance to this song inspired by Hannibal in my room not even five minutes ago and it’s 10 pm my time. I hope that answers the question I’m just very mentally ill."

"Becoming a demon against your demons ("Cos I’m not trapped / With you you see / You’re the one who’s / Trapped with me"), shaping yourself into something dangerous against what hurt you, grasping with claws and teeth to your freedom and truest self. The pain shaped us but we won't let that stop us."

The Old Witch... submitted by @gay-breakdown-central + @saint-oleander + others

[musetember]

your generation has, like, zero attention span for epic tales

Questies! Welcome to Musetember, our prompt challenge during September based on the Ancient Greek muses and the ways their stories and themes can inspire fanfiction and art. 

We have nine different themed prompts and a special tenth - The Chorus - that invites you to participate through commenting or lists of recommendations.

Unfamiliar with the muses? We’ll take you on a journey through them all. Every muse inspires, but each has a domain that resonates with her the most. Write a story that embodies the muse who speaks to you most strongly, or write something inspired by each one in turn. You can interpret their domains as broadly or as literally as you like; the main thing is to create in whatever way feels best to you. 

Calliope invites you to tell us an epic tale. Whether it’s the final battle between good and evil on Andowyne or a re-telling of an ancient legend from the old gods and heroes of our world, this is your chance to go ageless and big. What’s an epic tale? Classically these were long works like The Odyssey, passed down in stories upon stories. Don’t have the attention span for a tale quite that epic in length? Maybe your tale is epic in scale or ambition, rather than word count.

Melpomene looks deep into your heart and asks you, what is the worst that could happen? The muse of tragedy, she has seen over and over again the ruinous and inescapable paths people create for themselves and the ones they love. How could Sorsha doom her daughter to a loveless marriage? When hope is lost, what survives?

Thalia is here to make you laugh. With her, it’s time to embrace the most ridiculous premises, the silliest goobers and the bawdiest jokes you can imagine. Really revel in the humorous side of Willow, a comedy of errors, even a vaudeville au - just don’t forget that happy ending. 

Erato - more like E-rated! Erato is the muse of erotica, so it’s time to get your smut on. Write a moment of intense passion, of aching desire, of the deepest, horniest bond imaginable. 

Clio is your invitation to look into the past. As the muse of history, she’ll be with you whether you’re exploring the story of the first six fey to be cast out of the Grove, or if you’re deep in the research for a historical au in our world. 

Polyhymnia welcomes you to explore religion and ritual. Speak to us of the Order of the Wyrm, of beliefs that shape the lives of the Bone Reavers… or of Catholic schoolgirls just trying to catch a moment together. 

Euterpe sings. The stage is set and the orchestra is waiting - it’s time to celebrate music. Embrace the inspiration found in song lyrics, in band dynamics, in a brand new video edit, or ask yourself: does Kit really know how to play those instruments in her room?

Terpsichore extends her hand to draw you into a dance. From sexy grinding in a modern au to an aching slow dance in the rain, dance can be about self-expression or tight, rigid control. 

Urania looks far beyond this world and draws your attention to the stars, to the two moons lighting up the sky. The muse of astronomy is as present in the far reaches of the galaxy in a sci-fi au as she is in the constellation of Jade’s freckles.

Finally, we come to the Chorus. In Ancient Greek works, the Chorus often represents a voice speaking to or with the audience, a bridge between the world of the story and the world outside it. The Chorus is vital. Without their commentary, something important is lost from a story. Those who comment on fanfiction as just as important - you readers are part of this challenge too! Tell the writers what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. Leave a comment on a favourite story that fits the thematic domain of each muse. Write up a rec list for your favourite muse, and share your favourites so that others can discover them and dive in.

Rules and some specific writing challenges below the read more!

Writing Challenges: 

Still needing more inspiration? There are different ways you can approach this. You can write whatever style your heart wants, or you could try your hand at one of these challenges that interpret the muses’ calls in different ways. 

The Fragment Challenge Write a drabble of 100 words, or write multiple drabbles as if they were glimpses into the same story with missing pieces in between. For artists, share a fragment of a work in progress - anything unfinished!

The Epistolary Challenge Write in the form of letters, a diary, newspaper clippings, social media posts… Or how about Nockmaar’s trip advisor?

The Lost Scene Challenge Write or draw a scene we missed out on in canon, or a scene that gives the impression it is part of a longer, unwritten fic.

All of these give you a fun way to explore the things you choose not to tell the audience, and play off the Ancient Greek theme that our muses inspire. 

Rules/FAQ

How long does the challenge last?

From September 1, 2024 until Oct 6, 2024.

How do I share my cool stuff?

If it's a fanwork appropriate for AO3, we'd love it if you added it to the challenge AO3 collection, which will be open until the challenge ends!

What pairings apply? Is this just Tanthamore?

This challenge is open to all Willow fanworks! You can create things for any prompt with any character or characters from Willow, you can write different pairings, you can do whatever you want forever. Just make sure that your fics are tagged appropriately!

Can my work be any rating?

Yes absolutely! Write the most E-rated thing your little heart desires, just tag it as such so readers can decide for themselves what they'd like to engage with.

Can it be any length?

Sure! There is no minimum or maximum word limit.

Does it have to be based in Willow canon?

Nope - it can be canon, canon-divergent, or any kind of AU you would like to write!

Does it have to be finished?

Nope, not at all. If one of the prompts inspires you to start a long fic, you are still totally welcome to add it to the collection during September and carry on working on it after the challenge is over.

[smilesession]

Hey man I've been watching some Wicked and Dune recently, what kind of movies do you like?

Nice I like The Heart of the World, Basket Case, Threads, Altered States, Der Himmel über Berlin, Das Weisse Band, Сталкер, Psychedelic Glue-Sniffin' Hillbillies, Julien Donkey-Boy, Badlands, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Guyana Tragedy: the Story of Jim Jones, Streets of Fire, Bicycle Thieves, Koyaanisqatsi, Possession, McCabe & Mrs. Miller, The Saddest Music in the World, Fehérlófia, Gothic, The Dark Backward, No No Nooky T.V., Tetsuo the Iron Man, Janet Planet, Dead Man, Septien, They Eat Scum, Possibly in Michigan, Face Like a Frog, Multiple Maniacs, Slacker, Caché, Melancholia, Down by Law, Black Christmas, The Florida Project, The Deer Hunter, Soylent Green, Bar-B-Que Movie, Sweetie, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, Paris Texas, Night on Earth, mother!, Brain Damage, Иди и смотри, Asteroid City, Barnyard, Shredder Orpheus, Reality 86'd, Carnival of Souls, Tales from the Quadead Zone, Old, We're All Going to the World's Fair, Scorpio Rising, Gummo, Waiting for Guffman, Grey Gardens, American Movie, The Devil and Daniel Johnston, The Maestro: King of the Cowboy Artists, Trash Humpers, Turtle Dreams, Perfect Lives, Begotten, À ma sœur!, The Beaver Trilogy, Stranger than Paradise, The Holy Mountain, The Eyes of My Mother, I'm Thinking of Ending Things, Kinds of Kindness, The Piano, The Lighthouse, House, Frailty, Hated, Phantom of the Paradise, Cry-Baby, Popeye, Jeanne Dielman 23 quai du Commerce 1080 Bruxelles, Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, Cruel Story of Youth, Hiroshima mon Amour, Last Year at Marienbad, Memorias del subdesarrollo, Easy Rider, Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, Pink Flamingos, Κυνόδοντας, Emmet Otter's Jug-Band Christmas, Me and You and Everyone We Know, Hands on a Hard Body, PlayTime, Female Trouble, The Lovely Bones, My Dinner with Andre, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, π, Scanners,

[saturnaftertaste]

ohhhh i realized why. it’s the ending of self love with the audio of gwen saying “in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t go so well…” with the incredibly beautiful and resigned music in the background. brb crying

not sure why but every track on the atsv playlist is pushing me to tears

[straw-hat-nakama-22]

Lines From Hadestown

Luffy: Come home with me! (He literally says this to every member of his crew)

Zoro: All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.

Nami: Euridice was a hungry young girl. A runaway from everywhere she’d ever been. She was no stranger to the world. She was no stranger to the wind.

Usopp: If it’s true what they say, I’ll be on my way. But who are they to say, what the truth is any way? Cause the ones who tell the lies, are the solemnest to swear, and the ones who load the dice, always say the toss is fair.

Sanji: You would do anything just to fill your belly full of food, find a bed that you could fall into where the weather wouldn't follow you.

Chopper: And this poor boy, he wore his heart out on his sleeve, you might say he was naive.

Robin: See, someone’s got to tell the tale, whether or not it turns out well.

Franky: He could make you see how the world could be. In spite of the way that it is.

Brook: A song to fix what’s wrong, take what’s broken, make it whole. A song so beautiful it brings the world back into tune, back into time. And all the flowers will bloom.

Garp: Why do we build the wall or Take it from an old man.

Ace: It’s a sad song, it's a tragedy. But we're going to sing it again.

Sabo: They’ll pluck the heart right out yo’ chest. They’ll truss you up in your Sunday best and stuff your mouth with cotton!

Vivi: Wait for me, I’m coming too, wait I’m coming with you.

Koby: Low, oh you gotta keep your head low, if you wanna keep your head, oh you gotta keep your head-

Shanks: And it ain’t because I’m kind, but his Mama was a friend of mine. And I liked to hear him sing, and his way of seeing things, so I took him under my wing. And that is where he stayed until one day…

Buggy: And jealousy fuels him and feeds him and fills him.

[thestevenmeeks]

I just finished rewatching Dead Poets Society, and had the urge to listen to Hadestown (amazing show highly recommend), the second half of the show specifically, as if my sorrow wasn't enough. When I tell you, the first song I played was Road to Hell reprise, and almost started bawling, because it perfectly showcases the average DPS fan rewatching experience:

It's an old song And that is how it ends That’s how it goes

Don't ask why, brother, don't ask how He could have come so close The song was written long ago And that is how it goes

It's a sad song It's a sad tale It's a tragedy It's a sad song But we sing it anyway

'Cause here’s the thing To know how it ends And still begin to sing it again As if it might turn out this time I learned that from a friend of mine