Songs For Tim McVeigh:

Many Popular Lyrics As They Apply To Him

I am putting together a group of popular rock songs by well-known and celebrated songwriters and singer, which resonate the despair, the flatness of affect and the aimless wandering through life with little hope for happiness of Timothy McVeigh. In some cases, I am changing some of the lyrics of these extablished artists, all for the purposes of "personalizing" them for Tim's sake. Other songs' lyrics are intact. I have put several lines of some of the songs on my index.html page, but here I am posting the entire set of words---with my doctoring, of course. Please read these songs and see whether or not you agree with me. There is a great deal of searching, of pain and of social isolation. It almost seems as though these songwriters had gotten into Tim's head and spoken his feelings. Here then, are the songs as I have them so far:

Sick Cycle Carousel

If shame had a face I think it would kind of look like mine
If it had a home would it be my eyes
Would you believe me if I said I'm tired of this
Well here we go now one more time

I tried to climb your steps
I tried to chase you down
I tried to see how low I could get down to the ground
I tried to earn my way
I tried to change this mind
You better believe I tried to beat this

When will this end?
It goes on and on over and over and over again
Keep spinning around I know that it won't stop
Till I step down from this for good

I never thought I'd end up here
I never thought I'd be standing where I am
I guess I kind of thought it would be easier than this
I guess I was wrong

I tried to climb your steps
I tried to chase you down
I tried to see how low I could get down to the ground
I tried to earn my way
I tried to change this mind
You better believe that I tried to beat this

So when will this end?
It goes on and on over and over and over again
Keep spinning around I know that it won't stop
Till I step down from this sick cycle carousel
This is a sick cycle carousel
Sick cycle carousel
This is a sick cycle, yeah.

To me, the lyrics of this song echo much of what Tim thought and felt. He seemed to be on an endless "sick cycle carousel," an emotionally unhealthy ride on what was supposed to be a fun ride at the fair, a carousel. Once he began to hate and let it eat voraciously on what was good and innocent in him, Tim was unable to stop the cycle, get off the dizzying ride that made him sick and eventually killed him.

Bohemian Rhapsody:

Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality

Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go
A little high, little low

Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me, to me

Mama, just killed a man
Put a gun against his head
Pulled my trigger, now he's dead
Mama, life had just begun
But now I've gone and thrown it all away

Mama, ooo
Didn't mean to make you cry
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow
Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters

Too late, my time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Body's aching all the time
Goodbye everybody - I've got to go

Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth
Mama, ooo - (anyway the wind blows)
I don't want to die
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

I see a little silhouetto of a man
Scaramouch, scaramouch will you do the fandango
Shunderbolt and lightning - very very frightening me

Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo Figaro - magnifico

But I'm just a poor boy and nobody loves me
He's just a poor boy from a poor family
Spare him his life from this monstrosity

Bismillah! No - we will not let you go - let him go
Bismillah! We will not let you go - let him go
Bismillah! We will not let you go - let me go
Will not let you go - let me go (never)

Never let you go - let me go
Never let me go - ooo
No, no, no, no, no, no, no -

Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia let me go
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me
for me
for me

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh baby - can't do this to me baby
Just gotta get out - just gotta get right outta here

Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters - nothing really matters to me.

Anyway the wind blows...

I chose this song because Tim himself quoted two lines from it in "American Terrorist." What he said was, "Any way the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me." In other words, he was, as David Hammer said, "playing the authors of the book like a fine-tuned fiddle" and as such, he strongly indicated to both Lou Michel and Dan Herbeck that he was totally oblivious to the prospect of dying and that he just didn't give a damn about anything. I do not believe that the quote in any way represents Tim's "swan song." He really did want to go on living, but was not about to admit it to anyone, often even to himself.

(You're) A Strange Animal

Well they say I should approach you With caution
But not to let you be aware of my fear
Never know what you'll find
Don't understand your kind 'round here

Watching your moves
They look so radical
Hearing your words
They sound fanatical
Something inside reveals you're magical
How can I get enough

You're a strange animal
That's what I know
You're a strange animal
I've got to follow

They've been trying to stick a time in your system
Analysing the defenses you hold
Trying to open wide
Hoping to step inside your soul

But everything here is unfamiliar
Nothing they've seen remotely similar
How can it be you're so peculiar
How can I get enough

You're a strange animal
That's what I know
You're a strange animal
I've got to follow

O Ominous Spiritus!

Yes, to many, Tim was the prototypical "strange animal." People tried in vain to penetrate the wall that housed his emotions and true feelings----conducting verbal experiments on him---at least that's how I saw it. Some would have loved to "step inside (his) soul" but found aspects of Tim's personality "unfamiliar" and even "peculiar." Many people viewed him as an innate curiosity, someone to be studied and watched, all for the purpose in squeezing any possible morsel of good copy.

A Criminal Mind:

You see my hands are steady
You've seen my face before
Soon you can take your last look
And they'll close the door

I stand accused before you
I have no tears to cry
And you will never break me
'Til the day I die

A criminal mind
Is all I've ever known
They tried to reform me
But I'm made of cold stone

My criminal mind
Is all I've ever had
Ask one who's known me
If I'm really so bad

I am

I've spent my life behind these steel bars
I've paid my debt in time
But being brought to justice
That was my only crime

I don't regret a single action
I'd do the same again
These prison walls secure me
And I'm numb to pain

A criminal mind
Is all I've ever known
They tried to reform me
But I'm made of cold stone

My criminal mind
Is all I've ever had
Ask one who's known me
If I'm really so bad

I am

Before you hand me over
Before you read my sentence
I'd like to say a few words
Here in my own defense

Some people struggle daily
They struggle with their concience 'Til the end
I have no guilt to haunt me
I feel no wrong intent

A criminal mind
Is all I've ever known
They tried to reform me
But I'm made of cold stone

My criminal mind
Is all I've ever had
Ask one who's known me
If I'm really so bad

I AM!

I sent the lyrics to "A Criminal Mind" to Tim once and prefaced them by saying that I recognized that, for whatever purpose and outcome his story might have, he had, by his own admission, a true criminal mind. He made no apologies for that fact, which stemmed from his stubborn refusal to tell what he felt would be a lie, that he never expressed remorse for the survivors and victims of his bombing. "They tried to reform (him)" but he wanted everyone to see him as "made of cold stone." People bought into that description, but that's because they didn't want or attempt to reach Tim before it was too late. In the end, it really was.

Nickelback's "How You Remind Me"

Never made it as a wise man
You couldn't cut it as a poor man (wanderin')
Tired of livin' like a blind man
(You're) sick inside without a sense of feelin'

And this is how you remind me
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am

It's not like you to say sorry
I was waiting on a different story
This time I'm mistaken
For handing you a heart worth breakin'

You've been wrong, You've been down
To the bottom of every bottle
Despite words in (your) head
Scream ("Am I) having fun yet?"

Yet?, Yet?, Yet?, no no

It's not like you didn't know that
I said I love you and I swear I still do
It must have been so bad
(That Middle East gig) must have damn near killed you

This is how you remind me
Of what I really am
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am

I was waiting on a different story
This time I'm mistaken
For handing you a heart worth breakin'

(You've) been wrong, (you've) been down
To the bottom of every bottle
Despite words in (your) head
Scream "Are we having fun yet?"

Yet?, Yet?, Yet?, no no

Never made it as a wise man
You couldn't cut it as a poor man (wanderin')
And this is how you remind me
This is how you remind me

This is how you remind me
Of what I really am
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am

It's not like you to say sorry
I was waiting on a different story
This time I'm mistaken
For handing you a heart worth breakin'

(You've) been wrong, (You've) been down
To the bottom of every bottle
Despite words in (your) head
Scream "Are we having fun yet?"

Yet?, Yet?, Yet?, no no.

I have taken the liberty to alter a line in this powerful song by a very popular and well-respected Canadian artist. I believe the real lyrics are, "That little woman must have damn near killed you." I replaced it, as you can see, with, "that Middle East gig must have damn near killed you," which fits the tempo of the song and allows it to be more applicable to Tim McVeigh. No, he wasn't "(having) fun yet:" rather, he reminded me of what I really am: A fallible human being who has made many serious and damaging mistakes myself, though in a very different way than Tim did. I love this song and never get sick of it. Perhaps the most telling and appropriate lines in this song are, "It's not like you to say sorry. I was waiting on a different story." No, the world really was waiting for Tim to say "sorry" and instead waited on a very different story: His over-publicized and macabre execution.

Black, Black Heart, By David Usher

Something ugly this way comes
Through my fingers sliding inside
All these blessings all these burns
I'm godless underneath your cover
Search for pleasure search for pain
In this world now I am undying
I unfurl my flag my nation helpless

Chorus:

Black black heart
Why would you offer more
Why would you make it easier
On me to satisfy
I'm on fire
I'm rotting to the core
I'm eating all your kings and queens
All your sex and your violence

As I begin to lose my grip
On these realities your sending
Taste your mind and taste your sex
I'm naked underneath your cover
Covers lie and we will bend and borrow
With the coming sign
The tide will take
The sea will rise and time will rape

Chorus

All your sex and your violence
All your sex and your violence
All your sex and your violence
All your sex and your violence.

This David Usher song (from yet another talented Canuck) is quite explicit in its expressions of sexual desire, but that isn't the main reason I'm posting the lyrics to "Black, Black Heart". When I substituted "All your sex and your diamonds" with "All your sex and your violence," it became, for myself anyway, a somewhat personal set of lyrics. If the truth be known, I was sexually attracted to Tim, but also acknowledged his crime and thus the inclusion of the word "violence." As I got physically close to him, in my mind anyway, I found that both his sexualty and his penchant for mass violence strangely seductive. I'm not going to apologize for being attracted to a bomber----strip away the crime and its consequences and see a man who could very well have had a completely different future, if it hadn't been for his "violence" in Oklahoma City.

Trickster

I'm the trickster burn so brightly
I still hate you motherfuckers everyone
wrapped in glory bound so tightly
I still crave you even when I'm overcome

saved by the light let me go on let me go bright
to be saved by the light let me go on let me go bright

I'm the trickster burned so badly
I still hate you motherfuckers everyone
wore my sickness so politely
I can't be your everything to everyone
woid of meaning swelled just slightly
I still need you I still need you
gone forever so concisely
I still need you I still need you

saved by the light let me go on let me go bright
to be saved by the light let me go on let me go bright

and if you hate the world
lets say I've been there
and if you hate yourself
well don't go changing
all the times I used your body done my way can't say I'm sorry
ripped the gloss of all your memories consequences so demanding
bruised and beaten conscience bleeding sexually

saved by the light let me go on let me go bright
to be saved by the light let my go on let me go bright

Breathe

save
save me from this
wandered around the town
all the thousand things
i might miss

and you
think we'll suffer much
think we'll close our eyes
just to see the light
pass us by

with tomorrow coming
hope that i don't
let you down again
said im so glad to be here
does it mean a thing
if only i could breathe
what you breathe
if only i could see what you see

sit
well take our time
watching the flowers grow
all friends weve known say
goodbye

and you
did you suffer much
did you close your eyes
just to see the night
rush on by

gathered all around you
hope that we don't
let you down again
i said i'm so glad to be here
does it mean a thing
if only i could breathe
what you breathe
if only i could see what you see

said i'm so glad to be here
does it mean a thing

if only i could breathe
what you breathe
if only i could see what you see
if only i could just believe a thing.

Bad Company

COMPANY ALWAYS ON THE RUN
DESTINY IS THE RISING SUN OH
I WAS BORN SIX GUN IN MY HAND
BEHIND A GUN I`LL MAKE MY FINAL STAND

IT`S WHY THEY CALL ME
BAD COMPANY AND I CAN DENY
BAD COMPANY TILL THE DAY I DIE
TILL THE DAY I DIE

REBEL SOUL DESERTERS WE ARE CALLED
CHOSE A GUN AND THREW AWAY THE SWORD
NOW THESE TOWNS THEY ALL KNOW OUR NAME
SIX GUN SOUND IS OUR CLAIM TO FAME

I CAN HEAR EM SAY
BAD COMPANY AND I CAN DENY
BAD COMPANY TILL THE DAY I DIE
TILL THE DAY I DIE.

You Turn Me On (I'm A Radio)

If you're driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who's bound to love you
Oh honey you turn me on
I'm a radio
I'm a country station
I'm a little bit corny
I'm a wildwood flower
Waving for you
I'm a broadcasting tower
Waving for you
And I'm sending you out
This signal here
I hope you can pick it up
Loud and clear
I know you don't like weak women
You get bored so quick
And you don't like strong women
'Cause they're hip to your tricks

It's been _dirty for dirty_

Down the line
But you know
I come when you whistle
When you're loving and kind
But if you've got too many doubts
If there's no good reception for me
Then tune me out, 'cause honey
Who needs the static
It hurts the head
And you wind up cracking
And the day goes dismal
From "Breakfast Barney"
To the sign-off prayer
What a sorry face you get to wear
I'm going to tell you again now
If you're still listening there
If you're driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who's bound to love you
If you're lying on the beach
With the transistor going
Kick off the sandflies honey
The love's still flowing
If your head says forget it
But your heart's still smoking
Call me at the station
The lines are open.

Hide In Your Shell

Hide in your shell cos the world is out to bleed you for a ride
What will you gain making your life a little longer?
Heaven or Hell, was the journey cold that gave your eyes of steel?
Shelter behind painting your mind and playing joker

Too Frightening to listen to a stranger
Too Beautiful to put your pride in danger
You're waiting for someone to understand you
But you've got demons in your closet
And you're screaming out to stop it
Saying life's begun to cheat you
Friends are out to beat you
Grab on to what you scramble for

Don't let the tears linger on inside now
Cos it's sure time you gained control
If I can help you, if I can help you
If I can help you, just let me know
Well, let me show you the nearest signpost
To get your heartback and on the road
If I can help you, if I can help you
If I can help you, just let me know.

All through the night as you like awake and hold yourself so tight
What do you need, a second-hand-movie-star to tend you?
I as a boy, I believed the saying the cure for pain was love
How would it be if you could see the world through my eyes?

Too Frightening- the fire's getting colder
Too Beautiful- to think you're getting older
You're looking for someone to give an answer.
But what you see is just an illusion
You're surrounded by confusion
Saying life's begun to cheat you
Friends are out to beat you
Grab on to what you can scramble for

Don't let the tears...
... just let me know
I wanna know...
I wanna know you...
Well let me know you
I wanna feel you
I wanna touch you
Please let me near you
Can you hear what I'm saying?
Well I'm hoping, I'm dreamin', I'm prayin'
I know what you're thinkin'
See what you're seein'
Never ever let yourself go

Hold yourself down, hold yourself down
Why d'ya hold yourself down?
Why don't you listen, you can
Trust me,
There's a place I know the way to
A place there is need to feel you
Feel that you're alone
Hear me
I know exactly what you're feelin'
cos all your troubles are whithin you
please begin to see that I'm just bleeding to
Love me, love you
Loving is the way to
Help me, help you
Why must we be so cool, oh so cool?
Oh, we're such damn fools...

A Soapbox Opera

"I want to tell you something;
Listen to me,
I'm trying to say, I'm better than you,
I am only what I am"

"We must not stand still,
For the night is coming,
Every man, every woman and child,
Everybody help me"

I hear, only what I want to hear,
But, I have to believe in something,
Have to believe in just one thing.
I said Father Washington, you're all mixed up,
Collecting sinners in an old tin cup.
Well, spare a listen for a restless fool,
There's something missing when I need your rule.

Well ,hey there;
You tell me you're a holy man,
But, although I am just a beginner,
I don't see you as a winner.

I said, Sister Robinson, you're all washed up,
Collecting teardrops in a paper cup;
If I could tell you what you need to know;
If I could tell you to get on with the show.

I'd rather never leave her,
There's a storm in my head,
Makes me hear what you say;
Just was it true?

So, what have I to do?
Well, what has he to do?
Oh, what is there to do
What oh-oh-ohoh

"All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful, the lord god made them all"

Mary, oh tell me what I'm living for,
'Cause I feel like I'm tossed in the river,
Oh, have you a son to deliver.

I said, Father Washington, you're all mixed up,
Collecting sinners in an old tin cup,
You tell the children what you need to know,
But, will they listen when it's time to go.

Oh, Sister Robinson, you're all washed up,
Collecting teardrops in a paper cup,
Can someone tell me what I need to know,
Can someone help me to get on with the show.

Peaceful World

Come on baby take a ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

People know this world is a wreck
We're sick and tired of being politically correct
If I see through it now but I didn't at first
The hypocrites made it worse and worse
Lookin' down their noses at what people say
These are just words and words are okay
It's what you do and not what you say
If you're not part of the future then get out of the way

Come on baby take a ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

Racism lives in the U.S. today
Better get hip to what Martin Luther King had to say
I don't want my kids being brought up this way
Hatred to each other is not okay
Well I'm not a preacher just a singer son
But I can see more work to be done
It's what you do and not what you say

If you're not part of the future then get out of the way Come on baby take a ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

Lay back the top and ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

The money's good and the work is okay
Looks like everything is rollin our way
'Til you gotta look the devil in the eye
You know that bastard's one big lie
So be careful with your heart and what you love
Make sure that it was sent from above
It's what you do and not what you say If you're not part of the future then get out of the way

Come on baby take a ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

Lay back the top and ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

Hey yeah
Hey yeah
Hey yeah
Hey yeah.

The reasons that this particular song reminds me of Tim are, the fact that Mellencamp sings, "I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee" which puts me in mind that Tim had been imprisoned in the federal penitentiary in Terre Haute, Tennessee, that Tim, as with this song, felt the world, particularly the United States was in "serious decline" and that hypocrites are running the country and destroying what was once good. It's an angry song in many ways, which contrasts sharply from its comforting title. Tim felt he was a part of the future and was, in his mind at least. That's why this was one of the songs I chose for this page.

Time For Mercy

Why does everybody hurt
Every bitter sickening word breaks my heart
Why can't anybody hear
When the thunder disappears and the sun breaks free

It's time for mercy
It's time for mercy
Mercy me

Every color every shade
Everyone an angel made from the breath of God
I'm your mother I’m your son
I am not the other one that you love to hate

It's time for mercy
It's time for mercy
Pretty please...

When the fires all burn down
When they open up the ground and put you in
I'll lay flowers on your grave
It's a little too late for sorry now

It's time for mercy
It's time for mercy
It's time for mercy
Mercy me.

I picture myself saying to Tim, "When the fires all burn down, when they open up the ground and put you in, I'll lay flowers on your grave." It's just so very, very sad and the waste of a life that could have, in time, become enriched. He might even come to express remorse if allowed to live and spend hour upon hour thinking about what he did.

You've Got A Friend

When you're down and troubled
and you need a helping hand
and nothing, whoa nothing is going right.
Close your eyes and think of me
and soon I will be there
to brighten up even your darkest nights.

You just call out my name,
and you know whereever I am
I'll come running, oh yeah baby
to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall,
all you have to do is call
and I'll be there, yeah, yeah, yeah.
You've got a friend.

If the sky above you
should turn dark and full of clouds
and that old north wind should begin to blow
Keep your head together and call my name out loud
and soon I will be knocking upon your door.
You just call out my name and you know where ever I am
I'll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer or fall
all you got to do is call
and I'll be there, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Hey, ain't it good to know that you've got a friend?
People can be so cold.
They'll hurt you and desert you.

Well they'll take your soul if you let them.
Oh yeah, but don't you let them.

You just call out my name and you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again.
Oh babe, don't you know that,
Winter spring summer or fall,
Hey now, all you've got to do is call.
Lord, I'll be there, yes I will.
You've got a friend.
You've got a friend.
Ain't it good to know you've got a friend.
Ain't it good to know you've got a friend.
You've got a friend.

Everybody Hurts

When your day is long
And the night
The night is yours alone
When you're sure
You've had
Enough of this life
Well hang on
'Cause everybody cries
And everybody hurts
Sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong
Now it's time to sing along
(When your day
Is night alone)
Hold on, hold on
(If you feel like letting go)
Hold on
If you think you've had
Too much of this life
Well hang on

'Cause everybody hurts
Take comfort
In your friends
Everybody hurts

Don't throw your hand.

The Unknown Soldier

Wait until the war is over
And we're both a little older
The unknown soldier

Breakfast where the news is read
Television children fed
Unborn living, living, dead
Bullet strikes the helmet's head

And it's all over
For the unknown soldier
It's all over
For the unknown soldier...

Make a grave for the unknown soldier
Nestled in your hollow shoulder
The unknown soldier

Breakfast where the news is read
Television children fed
Bullet strikes the helmet's head

And, it's all over
The war is over
It's all over
The war is over
Well, all over, baby
All over, baby
Oh, over, yeah...

But the war wasn't over for Tim McVeigh when he returned home from the Middle East. The two men he'd been forced to kill haunted him for years afterward and he suffered a traumatic and frightening breakdown, which saw him run, barefoot and clad only in sweat pants, over snow and ice in the dead of winter to the refuge of his beloved grandfather's home. I so wish Tim had gotten treatment at that Veteran's Administration Hospital in Florida, but because he was afraid it might prevent him from obtaining a good job afterward, he declined the help that very well could have diffused his cataclysmic mind-set.

Orange Crush

Follow me, don't follow me
I've got my spine, I've got my orange crush
Collar me, don't collar me
I've got my spine, I've got my orange crush
We are agents of the free
I've had my fun and now its time to
Serve your conscience overseas (over me, not over me)
Coming in fast, over me

(repeat verse)

High on the roof,
thin the blood,
another one ____ on the waves tonight,
comin' in, you're home

We'd circle and we'd circle and we'd circle to stop and consider and centered on the pavement stacked up all the trucks jacked up and our wheels in slush and orange crush in pocket and all this here county hell any county it's just like heaven here and I was remembering and I was just in a differnet county and all then this whirlybird that I headed for I had my goggles pulled off I knew it all I knew every back road and every truck stop

(repeat verse and chorus)

Orange crush was a type of insect repellent used on the rice paddies of Vietnam, but when soldiers encountered and were covered in it, they were often hideously burned and scarred for life. War brings with it many inhumane practises---the Gulf War spawned what is known today as "Gulf War Syndrome" and includes fatigue, body aches and feelings of depression. Although it was believed that Tim McVeigh did not suffer any physical effects from his time in the Middle East, his depression, from which he suffered most of his life, was greatly intensified. Anyone, no matter how stable and well-adjusted, is aversely affected by various aspects of war. It's a dirty fact of our lives.

The Man Who Sold the World

We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there, he said I was his friend
Which came as some surprise I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone, a long long time ago

Oh no, not me
I never lost control
You're face to face
With The Man Who Sold The World

I laughed and shook his hand, and made my way back home
I searched for form and land, for years and years I roamed
I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions here

Who knows? not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the Man who Sold the World

Yes, Tim really did die alone, a long, long time ago. Something deep inside his soul deadened him, both spiritually and emotionally. Why couldn't someone have helped him somewhere along the line? He truly was "the man who sold the world," because what he did with the bombing, in essence, frittered away his own personal world.

Adam's Song

i never though i'd die alone i laughed the loudest who'd have known.
i traced the cord back to the wall no wonder it was never plugged in at all
i took my time, i hurried up.
the choice was mine i didn't think enough.

i'm too depressed to go on you'll be sorry when i'm gone.
i never conquered, rarely came 16 just held such better days.
days when i still felt alive.
we couldn't wait to get outside.

the world was wide, too late to try.
the tour was over i'd survived.
i couldn't wait till i got home to pass the time in my room alone.

i never though i'd die alone.
another six months i'll be unknown.
give all my things to all my friends you'll never set foot in my room again.
you'll close it off, board it up.

remember the time that i spilled the cup.
of apple juice in the hall.
please tell mom this is not her fault.
i never conquered, rarely came, but tomorrow holds such better days

days when i can still feel alive.
when i can't wait to get outside.
the world is wide the time goes by.
the tour is over, i've survived i can't wait till i get home.
to pass the time in my room alone.

I would imagine that Tim really did spend a lot of time alone in his bedroom. He retreated in a fantasy world of action hero comic books, Star Trek and other flights of fancy. He was very afraid that his parents, who argued loudly and with extreme anger in their voices, would end up killing each other. It is my belief that Tim McVeigh was suicidal back in those days, when terribly ridiculed in school, failing at Little League and realizing he let his father down and possessing an innate predisposition to dark feelings of despair and hopelessness.

Brothers In Arms

In the case of all those bombing victims, the song seems to represent their cries of non-violence and condemnation of an anti-government activist's decision to, in effect, wage war on his country's government. So these words and phrases can be read here have two seperate groups of people, but one message: We are indeed, fools to make war on our brothers in arms." Tim's home now, is in the "mist covered mountains" of the afterlife.

These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be

Some day you'll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you'll no longer burn
To be brothers in arms

Through these fields of destruction
Baptism of fire
I've watched all your suffering
As the battles raged higher

And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms

There's so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones

Now the sun's gone to hell
And the moon's riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die

But it's written in the starlight
And every line on your palm
We're fools to make war
On our brothers in arms.

Jeremy

At home drawing pictures of mountain tops with him on top. Lemon yellow sun. Arms raised in a V. The dead lay in pools of maroon below. Daddy didn't give attention to the fact that mommy didn't care. King Jeremy the Wicked ruled his world. Jeremy spoke in class today.

Clearly I remember picking on the boy.
Seemed a harmless little fuck...but we unleashed a lion.
Gnashed his teeth and bit the recess lady's breast.
How could I forget. And he hit me with a surprise left.
My jaw left hurting, dropped wide open.
Just like the day...like the day I heard
Daddy didn't give affection and the boy was something mommy wouldn't wear.
King Jeremy the Wicked ruled his world.

Jeremy spoke in class today.

Try to forget this...try to erase this from the blackboard.

Jeremy shared certain characteristics and problems with the unleashed lion known as Jeremy. His classmate picked on him mercilessly and his mother paid little attention to him. In Tim's case, he was taunted, ridiculed and called derogatory names like "Noodle McVeigh" and "Chicken McVeigh. The difference between Jeremy and Tim is the undeniable love that Tim's father had for him. Were it not for Bill McVeigh, along with his dear grandfather, Tim might have expoded in a violent rage when he was Jeremy's age. The photos below show happier and more innocent times. The top one shows Tim when he played baseball as a child. The bottom picture depicts Tim hugging his grandfather on the day of his graduation from high school:

With Or Without You

I never imagined, when I began this particular page of my site, that there would be so many song lyrics to post. Thanks for slogging through them all---I firmly believe they could have been written, experienced and thought out by Tim McVeigh. This latest effort is a favourite song from U2's "The Joshua Tree" album and speaks for itself. Note that I have "doctored" the words so as to make it a diatrabe for me. (Hence the "he" replacing "she." I hope Bono doesn't mind:

See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails he makes me wait
And I wait....without you

With or without you
With or without you

Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you

With or without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you

And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
And you give
And you give yourself away

My hands are tied
My body bruised, he's got me with
Nothing left to win
And nothing else to lose

With or without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you

This song sums up some of the feelings I had for Tim McVeigh. As it turned out, I DID have to live without him. The "body brace" was my imprisonment---a mental imprisonment when he was incarcerated and I could and would not ever be able to hug him and wish him the best in the afterlife. And he did give himself away---Tim did that when he bombed the Murrah Building. He gave his life away, as if it was something he could somehow retrieve. It's all so very, very sad and tragic. The deaths of 169 people stand as a testament to how violent our world has become.

Outside

In my opinion, this is THE definitive song that makes me think of Tim and his imprisonment. In fact, I quoted it to him in a letter and he seemed to think it fit as well. Good thing, because I didn't know how he would react when I wrote out all the lyrics. One particular line, "I'm on the outside, I'm looking in" speaks of Tim's encarceration. The narrator of the song could be me. Anyhow, here are the words, powerful as they are:

and you bring me to my knees
all this time that i
all the times that i felt insecure
and i leave my burdens at the door

i'm on the outside
i'm looking in
i can see through you
see your true colors
inside you're ugly
ugly like me
i can see through you
see to the real you

all this time that i felt like this won't end
was for you
and i taste what i could never have
it's from you
all those times that i tried
my intentions
full of pride
and i waste more time than anyone

i'm on the outside
i'm looking in
i can see through you
see your true colors
cause inside you're ugly
ugly like me
i can see through you
see to the real you

all the times that i cried
all this wasting
it's all inside
and i feel all this pain
stuffed it down
it's back again
and i lie here in bed
all alone
i can't help what i feel
tomorrow will be okay

i'm on the outside
i'm looking in
i can see through you
see your true colors
inside you're ugly
ugly like me
i can see through you
see to the real you.

There are other references that could describe Tim and also the way I saw him, sitting alone in a tiny cell and knowing that there were thousands, even millions, of people who were either just as guilty as he was, or even moreso. Pay attention to the lines:"All this time that i felt like this won't end
....and the disturbing lines: and i taste what i could never have
it's from you
all those times that i tried
my intentions
full of pride
and i waste more time than anyone

Yes, this would be my very favourite "Tim McVeigh song." He knew he basically wasted his life in the pursuit of his passionate ideals about the corrupt nature of the American government. Every time I hear this song, I think of him and what could have been....

Look at these telling and sad lines from "Outside." It fits him so well:

and you bring me to my knees
all this time that i
all the times that i felt insecure
and i leave my burdens at the door

These lines could very well apply to Andrea Peters, the young woman to whom Tim fell in love. She just wanted to be friends, however, so Tim lost at love and never got the chance to try for any kind of romance again. It's sad. all this time that i felt like this won't end
was for you
and i taste what i could never have
it's from you
all those times that i tried
my intentions
full of pride
and i waste more time than anyone

Yes, Tim did waste a lot of time. He cheated himself out of nearly fifty years for his cause. His intentions were good, but his retaliation was not.

Just below is a terrible picture of what happened at the Branch Davidian compound, where devout followers of David Koresh were gassed, burned or shot to death, along with Koresh. I don't blame Tim at all for reacting as strongly ana as angrily as he did when the FBI attacked innocent men, women and children. Who cries for them and where is the monument where the building had once stood?

I am writing passages about the lyrics of the songs I've selected so far and let you know why I think they help to sum up that which was Tim McVeigh. Of course, none of us will really know everything that made this man tick, but we can pretty much get a clear glimpse into his mind and soul through these songs and my own poetry and prose. I've written about a number of the chosen songs and the rest will be posted later today. Please come back and check out this page from time to time. It is, like the site itself, a work-in-progress.

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