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Execupundit.com: An Old Neighborhood

They were there for one another. They were there to celebrate and boost one another. You had to coax them to brag.

A few years ago, a couple bought the nice little victorian cottage three doors down. The neighbor that owned it had passed away. The kids didn’t want it.

The couple promptly tore it down. They built a soulless modern house that sticks out like a sore thumb. The kitchen is in the front. The living room in the back. The curtain’s are drawn. The only light one ever sees is the flicker of the TV.

My wife and daughter call them “The Vampires”. 

“I’m singing this song for my sister Sinead

Concerning the god awful mess that she made

When she told them her truth just as hard as she could

Her message profoundly was misunderstood

There’s humans entrusted with guarding our gold

And humans in charge of the saving of souls

And humans responded all over the world

Condemning that bald headed brave little girl

And maybe she’s crazy and maybe she ain’t

But so was Picasso and so were the saints

And she’s never been partial to shackles or chains

She’s too old for breaking and too young to tame

It’s askin’ for trouble to stick out your neck

In terms of a target a big silhouette

But some candles flicker and some candles fade

And some burn as true as my sister Sinead

And maybe she’s crazy and maybe she ain’t

But so was Picasso and so were the saints

And she’s never been partial to shackles or chains

She’s too old for breaking and too young to tame”

— Kris Kristofferson, written in 1992 for Sinéad O’Connor when she was booed off the stage at a Bob Dylan anniversary concert.