This contrasts the verses just before it but works along the same lines. As if all of this-all of life-is merely for passing. How did this pass onto a popular song? “Feel I’m dying.” This is where I’ve tended to start to shy away from outward reaction 2 to this song because I don’t want to admit I feel the same way at times. I feel sadness is a “beyond” of sorts here, and that my own dread is actually a more ok way of thinking. “Sad” is an odd word here, but it gets me thinking of the linear path from dread to sadness. I tend to ignore the “take me back” part of this song, and focus on the concept of “tomorrow.” I, too, look at the future as something to dread. That is a given, it needs no other words. The consideration here is they are naturally in trouble. Then we move on to the universe of socialization, in such a passing and nonplussed manner. So we’re moving right into darkness and life. The conflation of moving into the proverbial darkness to reflect on the entirety of life. Here they are in italics, with my analysis. The lyrics, some could come away from them thinking “that’s really hitting it on the nose a bit, no?” But to me, the forthrightness of the lyrics are unparalleled to any song within a traditional genre. Here’s a YouTube video, contact me if it gets taken down 1 and I’ll find another link. The song is “Reflections of My Life” by Marmalade. I also wonder how, in real life, this song ever made it anywhere. It is a song that I relate to in a very odd way, I almost feel I should not relate to it, as it touches on subjects that an area in my brain that seems to concern itself with the vague tells me I should really not be open about-even silently to myself. I would not consider this the “best ever” song or anything in the realm of those simplistic superlatives. I would not consider this my “favorite song,” as I don’t really have favorites. There is one song that has stood out among all others throughout my life. Things took me, that is the best way I can succinctly describe this situation with me and music without making it its own one-thousand-word essay. ![]() I often had a visceral reaction to music, my emotions-while generally hidden-were not in check inside me. Not so much on the rock end of things, just popular music from the 1960s and 1970s. My father controlled the radio, and if it wasn’t Outlaw country, it was classic rock-ish. Growing up, I was often exposed to what would now be labeled in the generic genre of classic rock music. It introduces them to last century's terrible history of devastation and prejudice, yet offers them hope that the effects of hatred can be overcome.Or, “The world is… a terrible place to live.” My take on a song that should be considered anthematic, and is so in my own life. Gerda's beautifully written story gives an invaluable message to everyone. Although stripped of the essence of life, they were able to survive the barbarity of their captors. ![]() In the darkness of the camps, Gerda and her young friends manage to create a community of friendship and love. Over the next few years Gerda experienced the slow, inexorable stripping away of "all but her life." By the end of the war she had lost her parents, brother, home, possessions, and community even the dear friends she made in the labor camps, with whom she had shared so many hardships, were dead.ĭespite her horrifying experiences, Klein conveys great strength of spirit and faith in humanity. ![]() Although the Weissmanns were permitted to live for a while in the basement of their home, they were eventually separated and sent to German labor camps. ![]() Gerda's serene and idyllic childhood is shattered when Nazis march into Poland on September 3, 1939. From her comfortable home in Bielitz (present-day Bielsko) in Poland to her miraculous survival and her liberation by American troops-including the man who was to become her husband-in Volary, Czechoslovakia, in 1945, Gerda takes the reader on a terrifying journey. All But My Life is the unforgettable story of Gerda Weissmann Klein's six-year ordeal as a victim of Nazi cruelty.
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