"The hand of G-d appeared and proceeded to write on the wall, words of judgement about not measuring up to expectations. Belshazzar was dead by dawn. He never saw it coming. None of us see it coming..." (Deborah Conway & Willy Zygier).
What are the certainties that weigh us down? What are the illusions and assumptions that immobilise and paralyse us until too late?
Marcel Proust said: "The real act of discovery consists not in finding new lands but in seeing with new eyes."
(Click pic to play song...)
(Click pic to play song...)
Throw them overboard
a the safety cord
All my deep beliefs
My ballast in this life
Has weighed me like a chain and ball and kept me pinned to certainties long gone
And the writing’s on the wall
Sold my soul today
Got a pocketful of change
Almost what it’s worth
On current currency exchange
My prayer went up to G-d, where’s my love, my fame, my talent that should have come from up above?
All I get is writing on the wall
It’s started getting cold
I can see my breath like smoke
It reminds me of New York
When you used to love me back
And we’d walk and talk for hours through those graffitied streets and the giant holes that once were world trade towers
We never saw the writing on the wall
I am numbered, I am weighed, I am found to be wanting –
In the balance I am lame and insensitive to other people’s pain
Back in 6th BC
There was a conqueror’s feast
Where Belshazzar held court
Amongst one thousand lords
They drank from stolen cups toasting their false gods until that disembodied claw
Put the writing on the wall
He thought he had it all
Just pride before the fall…
