Good Evening
Tonight is round two of the battle in Texas…
PHOTO: Wendy Davis' pink mizunos from the rally today #SB1 #HB2 #standwithwendy #txlege @WendyDavisTexas http://t.co/13fxVrtVhY—
amy v. cooper (@amyvcooper) July 01, 2013
You can watch the whole thing live here:
The Texas Tribune
This is just an open thread, please feel free to post what ever you like.
I will start with this video of the song The Ballad of Lucy Jordon performed by Marianne Faithfull. It may be a sad and depressing song, but the results of tonight’s special legislative session aren’t going to be that wonderful either.
Amid Protests, Lawmakers Strengthen Their Resolve | The Texas Tribune
With 30 days and the majority of state lawmakers on their side, Republicans are almost assured success this time around as they seek to pass restrictions that would ban abortions starting 20 weeks after fertilization and require clinics performing the procedure to meet costly new requirements that could put many of them out of business.
The Ballad of Lucy Jordan
“The Ballad of Lucy Jordan” is a song by American poet and songwriter Shel Silverstein. It was originally recorded by Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show and also by the English singer Marianne Faithfull. Taken from her 1979 album Broken English, it was released as a single in November 1979.
[...]
In an interview on ITV’s The South Bank Show aired on 24 June 2007, Faithfull said that the story she intended to put across in it was that Lucy climbs to the rooftop but gets taken away by “the man who reached and offered her his hand” in an ambulance (“long white car”) to a mental hospital, and that the final lines (“At the age of thirty-seven she knew she’d found forever / As she rode along through Paris with the warm wind in her hair …”) are actually in her imagination at the hospital.[1]Thelma and Louise has a similar fatalistic theme.[2]
The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan Lyrics – Marianne Faithfull
Songwriters: SHEL SILVERSTEIN
The morning sun touched lightly on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
In a white suburban bedroom in a white suburban town
As she lay there ‘neath the covers dreaming of a thousand lovers
Till the world turned to orange and the room went spinning round.
At the age of thirty-seven she realised she’d never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.
So she let the phone keep ringing and she sat there softly singing
Little nursery rhymes she’d memorised in her daddy’s easy chair.
Her husband, he’s off to work and the kids are off to school,
And there are, oh, so many ways for her to spend the day.
She could clean the house for hours or rearrange the flowers
Or run naked through the shady street screaming all the way.
At the age of thirty-seven she realised she’d never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair
So she let the phone keep ringing as she sat there softly singing
Pretty nursery rhymes she’d memorised in her daddy’s easy chair.
The evening sun touched gently on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
On the roof top where she climbed when all the laughter grew too loud
And she bowed and curtsied to the man who reached and offered her his hand,
And he led her down to the long white car that waited past the crowd.
At the age of thirty-seven she knew she’d found forever
As she rode along through Paris with the warm wind in her hair …
This is an open thread…
