Modern Acoustic: Lyrically Speaking: Casimir Pulaski Day

In a few days, I'll be publishing and notice my Favorites of 2010 issue of Modern Acoustic magazine, but until then I thought I'd go up another in the series Lyrically Speaking, song lyrics that, to me, go beyond just words to a song.

Sufjan Stevens is an odd cat. In concert he wears butterfly wings; early on, he cherished to have one album for apiece of the 50 states, etc.

He has actually abandoned the idea (the states thing, not the wings!). But before he did, he released an album called Illinois, in which all the songs had some link to the state. It's a pretty great album, with cuts - many with long titles (like "The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades Is out to Get Us!") - that run the gamut from instrumental snippets to songs with sincere, heartfelt stories, all backed by his odd orchestra-like band. A song called "John Wayne Gacy Jr." tells the history of the '70s serial killer from Michigan and how we all accept that instinct deep interior of us. As for our favorite song on the album, "Casimir Pulaski Day," is almost a girl who is diagnosed with crab and passes away, presumably on Casimir Pulaski Day, a state holiday in Illinois. The lyrics are heartbreaking, as he remembers memories of their kinship and the infliction of his loss: "Tuesday night at the bible study/We lift our men and pray over your body/But nothing ever happens." The best lyrics are ones that affect you, takes you into the author's world. When the music fits that mood, you get a large song. This is one.Casimir Pulaski Day Golden rod and the 4-H stone The things I brought you When I launch out you had cancer of the bone Your father cried on the ring And he drove his car to the Navy yard Just to show that he was dark In the sunrise through the window shade When the light pressed up against your shoulder blade I could see what you were reading Oh the aura that the creator has made And the complications you could do without When I kissed you on the mouth Tuesday night at the word study We raise our men and pray over your torso But nothing ever happens I commend at Michael's house In the living room when you kissed my neck And I almost touched your blouse In the dawn at the top of the steps When your father found out what we did that dark And you told me you were scared Oh the glory when you ran away With your shirt tucked in and your shoes untied And you told me not to watch you Sunday night when I cleaned the theatre I see the board where you wrote it out With the pictures of your father On the story at the great divide With my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied I am crying in the bath In the morn when you finally go And the nurse runs in with her head hung low And the cardinal hits the window In the sunrise in the winter shade On the beginning of Marching on the holiday I thinking I saw you breathing Oh the aura that the creator has made And the complications when I see his side In the morning in the window Oh the glory when he took our space But he took my shoulders and he shook my case And he takes and he takes and he takes A picture of Casimir Pulaski Day