Based in Downtown Bentonville, Arkansas, Mike currently serves as the Chief Executive Officer at Pure Charity, a nonprofit dedicated to building world class technology solutions for Nonprofit Organizations, individuals, and Community Advocacy.

Which is your favorite? Bullet the Blue Sky.

 

After we touched down at our regional airport, we walked through the humidity to our car and loaded up.  As we started home and flipped the playlist to The Joshua Tree Album, we stepped backwards a few days.

She ventured the question, "Which is your favorite song on this album?"

"On this album?," I asked.

(That is a question similar to being asked to pick your favorite child.  It may sound like a real question, but all it does is cause you to remember the favorite things about all of your children.)  

"Bullet the Blue Sky," I offered in return.

Here's why...

The Presidents, countries, and objects of fear may change from "merciless Indian Savages" to Black Men to Muslims and travel bans, but other things seem to have stayed the same.

Here you go...listen and read the lyrics as you go.

Lyrics

In the howlin' wind
Comes a stingin' rain
See it drivin' nails
Into the souls on the tree of pain.

From the firefly
A red orange glow
See the face of fear
Runnin' scared in the valley below.

Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue
Bullet the blue.

In the locust wind
Comes a rattle and hum.
Jacob wrestled the angel
And the angel was overcome.

You plant a demon seed
You raise a flower of fire.
We see them burnin' crosses
See the flames, higher and higher.

Woh, woh, bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue
Bullet the blue.

Suit and tie comes up to me
His face red like a rose on a thorn bush
Like all the colours of a royal flush
And he's peelin' off those dollar bills
(Slappin' 'em down)
One hundred, two hundred.

And I can see those fighter planes
And I can see those fighter planes
Across the tin huts as children sleep
Through the alleys of a quiet city street.
Up the staircase to the first floor
We turn the key and slowly unlock the door
As a man breathes into his saxophone
And through the walls you hear the city groan.
Outside, is America
Outside, is America
America.

See across the field
See the sky ripped open
See the rain comin' through the gapin' wound
Howlin' the women and children
Who run into the arms
Of America.


Is healing possible right now?

Thank You David