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200 Years… (And What Came of Them)

from The Independence of Central America Remains an Unfinished Experiment by Cime

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lyrics

phil ochs and nick drake
the burning torch of baroque folk i'll have to take
will i end up like a Dylan or a Jara
will i ever buy a home for my mama
will i ever do anything at all

or will the peanut gallery chastise me
for expressing artistic insecurity
or for saying something they can't relate to
"it's not depression porn, what am i supposed to do?"
never been asked to comprehend another view
so you just pick a few words out, one or two
surely this isn't about me, it's all about you
always about you, forever about you

200 years, what came of them?
we broke our chains, now we're re-chateled
we freed ourselves, then we sold ourselves
just to feed ourselves, now it's gone to hell
the bind is strong, yes, it's stronger than the bond
of the union, which to our own past belongs
Morazán still lives within us
he is not dead, hope is not dead
God is not dead, we are not dead


but above all else, i ask with full intent
how am i supposed to celebrate with laughter and merriment
when the independence of central america is still just an experiment?
(We are not dead, we are not dead)

two hundred years
that's ten-odd score
five countries turn to seven or more
one is british the other american
the other five are the aztlan of corn, amen
cause i'm not mud and i'm no monkey
I'm a girl, an artist, child of the maize
and that bird is going to sing one of these days
one day one day one day

a back up plan seems stupid to me
even though i nearly didn't get my high school degree
now I'm still struggling first year in college
but this time with the knowledge of beans and toast
the knowledge of strawberries feeling morose
the knowledge of God's love for his daughter the most

and of the filibuster the snake and the jaguar
the car the job the dictatorship
being earnest and not ironic
with my conviction i'll stick

moving forward
or sinking or freezing
or being shot or raped
die in the revolution of my mind
by my own soft hands

cry to try and evolve
from my swollen glands

or just sit inside
just sit inside
just sit inside
just sit inside
just sit inside

maybe someday we'll look back
new tomorrows will be the yesteryears of old
choosing the right path and walking down it
totally completed, the project went gold

or maybe you'll look back
and turn to a pillar of salt
punished for your hesitation
in retrospect, who will you blame?
who will you name?
who will be at fault when to rest you are lain?
who will continue your legacy or does it end there?
are you fulfilled?
are you insecure?
if you passed away tomorrow would you leave any regrets
would you leave any unpaid debts
would you leave behind any trace of who you were for all who come next?
this may seem pretentious but i promise it isn't
look at the title of the album what does it mean
if you've been listening the question is obvious it seems
so lastly, i ask with full earnest intent
how am i supposed to celebrate with laughter and merriment
when the independence of central america is still just an experi

credits

from The Independence of Central America Remains an Unfinished Experiment, released July 1, 2022
Monty Cime: vocals, acoustic guitar, theatre organ, conch shell, garifuna drums, wooden frog, maracas

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Syzygy Records Aliso Viejo, California

Syzygy Records isn't a label; it is a portfolio of every project I, Monty Cime, have created.
When I was 11, I learnt the word "syzygy," & in trying to show an example of it, conjectured that "art is the result of an alignment (a "syzygy") of influences & life experiences beyond one's control"—these are my "Syzygy Records."
This conjecture, I came to find out, is a tenet of historical materialism. ... more

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