I'm so tired of you, America!

Every day at work I make sure to have some background music to get me through the day. There’s no one with whom to converse here at Braun Entertainment, other than my elderly boss, Zev, his middle-aged partner (business—not sexual,) Philip, or Ming, the office dog. Beings as neither of the three generate superlative conversation (although Ming can occasionally be quite chatty,) I generally select my go-to station—The Beatles. I feel it is generationally appropriate for all involved, and does not create a cacophony that would harm Zev’s already precarious hearing. (I won’t even get into how the likes of let’s say Kanye or Jay-Z could affect Ming’s tender lobes.)

So today, while I was listening to the general array of melodies, a gem of a tune came to my attention: Rufus Wainwright’s "Going to a Town." The refrain of the song reiterates a theme with which I can commiserate: "I’m so tired of you, America." While I believe Wainwright’s intention in writing these lyrics stems from his discontent that gays are still unable to legally marry in America, (a theme to be addressed in another post—remind me!) I can relate to their face value. I’m so tired of being in America!

Truthfully, I feel like an idiot even saying this, since I was very fortunate to study abroad in Barcelona, Spain for 4 ½ glorious months in college, but I am itching to use my passport’s powers for good again. Unfortunately, though, I am a broke recent college grad, and am obligated to write a check each month to Wells Fargo Bank, Attention: Student Loans Department. I’d much rather be squirreling away funds in a piggy bank, the saving habits attributed to 5 year olds the world over, and, apparently, me.

I sit in my office on the daily (I love that expression; its twin sister, ‘on the regular’ isn’t bad, either,) longing to make a dent in my mental list of places to go. I’m dying to go to Tel Aviv, to Thailand, and to climb to the top of Machu Picchu. Maybe I’ll have to wait awhile, but for the moment, I’m so tired of you, America! I’m going to go count the money in my piggy bank, now. Maybe I’ll have enough to afford the gas money to get me to San Fran by dawn. Maybe.


Lyrics included below:
Going to a Town
Rufus Wainwright

I'm going to a town that has already been burnt down
I'm going to a place that has already been disgraced
I'm gonna see some folks who have already been let down
I'm so tired of America

I'm gonna make it up for all of The Sunday Times
I'm gonna make it up for all of the nursery rhymes
They never really seem to want to tell the truth
I'm so tired of you, America

Making my own way home, ain't gonna be alone
I've got a life to lead, America
I've got a life to lead

Tell me, do you really think you go to hell for having loved?
Tell me, enough of thinking everything that you've done is good
I really need to know, after soaking the body of Jesus Christ in blood
I'm so tired of America

I really need to know
I may just never see you again, or might as well
You took advantage of a world that loved you well
I'm going to a town that has already been burnt down
I'm so tired of you, America

Making my own way home, ain't gonna be alone
I've got a life to lead, America
I've got a life to lead
I got a soul to feed
I got a dream to heed
And that's all I need

Making my own way home, ain't gonna be alone
I'm going to a town
That has already been burnt down