Seven 9s and 10s

Hard To Be

David Bazan

Curse Your Branches

David Bazan - Hard To Be

6:24 for June 24th

I can’t choose a favorite song from Bazan’s 2009 masterpiece, Curse Your Branches, but I find that the lyrics to this one, the albums opener, are particularly impressive. They perfectly lay the groundwork for the many soul-bearing and faith-bending songs that follow.

You’ve heard the story, you know how it goes
Once upon a garden we were lovers with no clothes
Fresh from the soil we were beautiful and true
In control of our emotions till we ate the poison fruit

And now it’s hard to be a decent human being

Wait just a minute you expect me to believe
That all this misbehaving grew from one enchanted tree
And helpless to fight it we should all be satisfied
With this magical explanation for why the living die

And why it’s hard to be a decent human being

Childbirth is painful
Toil to grow our food
Ignorance made us hungry
Information made us no good
Every burden misunderstood

I swung my tassel to the left side of my cap
Knowing after graduation there will be no going back
And no congratulations from my faithful family
Some of whom are already fasting to intercede for me

Because it’s hard to be a decent human being

Curse Your Branches

David Bazan

Curse Your Branches

David Bazan - Curse Your Branches


Digging up the root of my confusion
If no one planted it, how does it grow?
And why are some hell-bent upon there being an answer?
While some are quite content to answer “I don’t know”

To anyone that has struggled or does struggle with faith and belief and religion, I offer you those words.

The reason David Bazan’s music means so much to me is because his struggles, in large part, parallel my own.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: do yourselves a favor and pick up his 2009 album, Curse Your Branches. I’m not sure a better album about losing your faith has ever been made.

David Bazan - Harmless Sparks

They might have burned
but the priests were all taking turns
showing nuns what they had discerned about their bodies,
in the dark.
They carried on
from the evening until the dawn,
like they should have been all along
making harmless sparks,
instead of breaking little boys hearts.

God knows, if you noticed the millions of small holes
and ponder the weight of an apple
compared to the trouble we’re in,
then a grown man might
be tempted to question his birthright
in front of his kids and devout wife,
causing the doubt to begin
to spread like original sin.

No one does this better than Bazan. By this I mean, questioning belief.