{"id":20612,"date":"2026-04-11T10:45:12","date_gmt":"2026-04-11T13:45:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.screamyell.com.br\/blog\/?p=20612"},"modified":"2026-04-14T10:48:10","modified_gmt":"2026-04-14T13:48:10","slug":"uma-musica-por-dia-four-winds","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.screamyell.com.br\/blog\/2026\/04\/11\/uma-musica-por-dia-four-winds\/","title":{"rendered":"Uma m\u00fasica por dia: Four Winds"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/p>\n

DIA 2: “Uma m\u00fasica com um n\u00famero no t\u00edtulo”<\/strong><\/p>\n

“Four Winds”, Bright Eyes <\/em>
\ndo \u00e1lbum “Cassadaga” (2007)<\/em><\/p>\n

Your class<\/em>
\nyour caste<\/em>
\nyour country<\/em>
\nsect<\/em>
\nyour name <\/em>
\nor your tribe<\/em>
\nThere’s people always dying, trying to keep ‘em alive<\/em><\/p>\n

There’s bodies decomposing in containers tonight<\/em>
\nIn an abandoned building where<\/em><\/p>\n

A squatter’s made a mural of a Mexican girl<\/em>
\nWith fifteen cans of spray paint and a chemical swirl<\/em>
\nShe’s standing in the ashes at the end of the world<\/em>
\nFour winds blowing through her hair<\/em><\/p>\n

But when great Satan’s gone<\/em>
\nThe whore of Babylon<\/em>
\nShe just can’t sustain<\/em>
\nThe pressure where it’s placed<\/em>
\nShe caves<\/em><\/p>\n

The Bible’s blind,<\/em>
\nthe Torah’s deaf,<\/em>
\nthe Qu’ran is mute<\/em>
\nIf you burned them all together, <\/em>
\nyou’d get close to the truth still<\/em>
\nThey’re poring over Sanskrit under Ivy League moons<\/em>
\nWhile shadows lengthen in the sun<\/em><\/p>\n

Cast on a school of meditation built to soften the times<\/em>
\nAnd hold us at the center while the spiral unwinds<\/em>
\nIt’s knocking over fences, crossing property lines<\/em>
\nFour winds, cry until it comes<\/em><\/p>\n

And it’s the sum of man<\/em>
\nSlouching towards Bethlehem<\/em>
\nA heart just can’t contain<\/em>
\nAll of that empty space<\/em>
\nIt breaks<\/em>
\nIt breaks<\/em>
\nIt breaks<\/em><\/p>\n

Well, I went back by rented Cadillac and company jet<\/em>
\nLike a newly orphaned refugee, retracing my steps<\/em>
\nAll the way to Cassadaga to commune with the dead<\/em>
\nThey said, “You’d better look alive”<\/em>
\nAnd now it’s off to old Dakota where a genocide sleeps<\/em>
\nIn the black hills, the badlands, the calloused east<\/em>
\nI buried my ballast, I made my peace<\/em>
\nHeard four winds leveling the pines<\/em><\/p>\n

But when great Satan’s gone<\/em>
\nThe whore of Babylon<\/em>
\nShe just can’t remain<\/em>
\nWith all that outer space<\/em>
\nShe breaks<\/em>
\nShe breaks<\/em>
\nShe caves<\/em>
\nShe caves<\/em><\/p>\n