Today's slow drag is with "Stations of the Cross," from "National Ransom," released in 2010. The songwriting is credited to Elvis Costello. . . . Appreciation written, produced, and narrated by Remedy Robinson, MA/MFA Twitter: @slowdragremedy Email: [email protected] Podcast music by https://www.fesliyanstudios.com Rate this Podcast: https://ratethispodcast.com/slowdrag References: Elvis Costello Wiki Resource, "Stations of the Cross": http://www.elviscostello.info/wiki/index.php/Stations_Of_The_Cross   "Stations of the Cross": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJBEFmaRmug&pbjreload=10   "Elvis Costello on music, religion and the act of writing songs":  https://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/music/elvis-costello-on-music-religion-and-the-act-of-writing-songs/article1215986/ "Elvis Costello" Guardian Interview after the release of "National Ransom":  https://www.theguardian.com/music/2010/oct/17/elvis-costello-interview-tim-adams The 14 Stations of the Cross: https://www.britannica.com/topic/Stations-of-the-Cross       "The Long Term Recovery of New Orleans' Population after Hurricane Katrina": https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4752119/   Slattern, definition: https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/slattern "Stations of the Cross" Lyrics The tempest blows up from a squall Past the Cape of Bad Conscience Into the Gulf of the Cauldron Roars over the coastline to batter and flatten Exposing the roots like the dyed hair of slattern Scrapper and mauler in a rope ring this small Outside the wind is punching There's no one to hear it No one hears the bell ring but the one who comes to fear it And they continue to brawl He's buying his way into heaven I suppose He weeps at the blows But down in a location that we cannot disclose He turns the dial slowly Through the Stations of the Cross Crowd done up dandy In diamonds and finery Baying and howling All bloodlusty calling Fists like pistons Faces like meat spoiling Haul, boys, haul, bully-boys haul Later in the evening Molly and her gunman Go down the stairs to a dive like a dungeon Meanwhile in the backroom there's a girl like a sponge Saying, "Bring him along as a constable's truncheon" The gunman wants Molly to kingdom come Then blows them all to the hereafter Who's scuttling away now and hidden from our view? Who tightened the tourniquet, turning her blue? They're hurling themselves into heaven I suppose Before the gates are closed But down in a location that we cannot disclose They'll turn the dial slowly through the Stations of the Cross The gale of hale laughter Scales up the ivory The black keys of her fine wine descend into the minor Die away breathless Diminishing behind her Haul boys haul, bully-boys haul The water came up to the eaves You'd think that someone had opened a valve
 It's too soon to stay now and too late to leave So spare your remorse all the way up to Calvary They're hurling themselves into heaven I suppose Before the gates are closed But down in a location that we cannot disclose They turn the dial slowly through the Stations of the Cross

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