The Southside of Heaven by Ryan Bingam Analysis

So, the poem is talking about when the narrator dies. To be put on a train. I've had imaginations of heaven, that there'd be trains. It's an interesting facet of the song. You can find that in City of God. The poem is referring to "Southside of Heaven", the recurring phrase means the Southlands. There's a certain patriotism, and home like quality for southerners with the South. And, the Train is taking him to that Southern Comfort.

Here's a reference to Paul on the road to Damascus. Which, is the line that caused me to write an analysis, as that's expert craftsmanship, to have that allusion. The lost faith is in "Family"... we often have this lost faith, and become disillusioned to our youthful goals of having relationships. We become blind like Paul on the road to Damascus, being smitten by God, and blinded to  our hopes, in order to turn us back.

A refrain, about going to heaven, and losing the hardships of this earth. The earth is hard, it's cold, and for a man who's suffered a lot, it's better to leave this earth, than to call it our home. The song is a ballad about leaving Earth, and returning to the Southern Comfort, or the idyllic Youth.

A desperado in Texas, not getting rain. "Rain" is blessing, in Biblical symbolism---which is what the song is drawing from. Wandering the deserts, not receiving rain is indicative of calling this world hell. The Southside of Heaven, is also a humble plea, to take him to the lowest rungs of heaven, so at least he can be happy.

And here's a reference to Cocaine, the drug use is like a train going off the tracks. Like a train out of control. 

So, we have a "Cold" desert. An interesting play on words, and I wonder if there's some references to Afghanistan... as it's not uncommon for Afghanistan's deserts to get cold. So, it might have some allusions to the Afghanistan war. Coupled with  the drug use, maybe it's a soldier coming home, and wanting to take the train to heaven.

Money can't buy his "Soul". Being rich can't save you. It can't save you from the hell on earth. Only Christ's blood can actually save you. Another one of the lines that made me want to analyze this song. That's two allusions to biblical themes, and I find them well crafted, nuanced, and possibly something many readers will miss. It actually reminds me of a Johnny Cash song, with its craft.

Again with the reference to Cold. The  refrain, it's talking about Cold Deserts---and again, we don't really associate deserts with cold. Normally we associate them with hot. So, it's a sort of reality experience. I think---even if this isn't an anthem of a veteran---a person who's been to Afghanistan, definitely becomes confronted with this odd pairing, which is a complete misalignment of archetypes and popular images. Which, in our experiences, things that don't fit our expectations are often much worse because they're completely alien.

And a repetition of the last refrain.

Filmer

The riches of the world cease
Save for the kings who rule it.
Adam, eternally recurring,
His divine heritage as King,
Ruler over all flesh...

He drinks the draught
Of rainbow liquor,
And merries his meed
Into the womb of his wife.
Yet, for the world around him,
Their sustenance goes to his belly:
Their wagons, their cotton and wool,
Their games, their arts, their labors
And all their luxurious leisure.

He smacks his lips, and upon them are spices
Numerous: Fenugreek, cinnamon,
Turmeric, Ginger, Onion, Chili,
Clove Garlic and pickled Ginger, fried in Cottonseed Oil, 
Mint, Cilantro, whisked together with cream.
The tinge of clam broth,
The decadence of scallop and crabmeat,
A pound of Roasted Beef, salted and cooked
To its decadent perfection,
Suckling pork dusted with sugar and salt,
Lamb liver fried in mint, cinnamon and  cumin.

He plucks his grape from the bowl,
His strawberry, his banana and apple,
His pomegranate, mango and melon---
While he eats, and takes, and consumes,
The people around him wane into poverty.
For, his magisterial justice cares only
To feed himself--- his Judges allow him
The sustenance of virginal flowers.
His law his his own belly.

He picks up his wine, cherry and deep,
And drinks, tasting the oak upon his food;
The sweet grape accenting his yams and potatoes
Delicately pureed with butter, salt, and cream;
And his expertly crafted steak shall hint of grape berry.
The men and women around him starve, though.
Their work feeds him--- and he exacts all their taxes.
He does not care, for he wishes it to be so.
So he can incur God's wrath,
And see if the sun truly will darken.
To see if the stars truly do fall.
To see if the moon tr8p7 will turn to blood.

Prince of Persia

O, thou Prince, thou king,
With your black prayers,
You summon forces.
Your god is the forces.
Your prayers hinder prosperity
For the saints, and delay our answers from God.
But, you shall not be victorious.

There is you, thou Covering Cherub,
Dragon, who accuses the flock.
There is you, oh beastial intelligence.
Who hates your Christian brother, and slays him.
There is you, oh diviner, who divines evil
For the LORD's people, when God has promised fortune.
There is you. oh lord of Hades, who denies God
And gainsays His majesty, and brings the ignorant into pits.

Xochipilli 

You are a coruscated crown;
The citizens do flock to the same stalls...
In 1933 the poet sings a song to thee.

Patron of the arts, patron of the flower,
Patron of the games; god of Sodom...

What can we do for thee?
How can we break free from thy tyranny?
You control the world, from Taining lands;
You are a clown ruling a half the world.

How does the poet know? 
Does he wear time on his wrists?
I, the Urn, he sings of me,
Banished and in purgatory.
I sit, listlessly, listening to obdurate church bells...
They have no faith, but worship the Anglican and Catholic God
Xochipilli ;
Am I an artefact? No.

For a short breath of time, this Anarchy reigns,
While David allies with the Avegins. 
And anarchy reigns across the land,
While Xochipilli  fiddles to the burning heaps
Of his cities--- for he does not know.

Who am I? I am the Urn with Ashes and Homilies.
Childe Harold is on his pilgrimage;
Oh, how he goes, with his fair haired bride.
Purgatory shall turn to paradise
One day...
And I... I shall go where?
When Sodomite has been made Writ
And man's sinful nature has corrupted even the lambs?
Where shall I go?
This world was not made for me.
So, I rest at peace.

Just Because it Works

Just because it works,
Doesn't mean it's right.

You can lock us up in cages,
Give us a little spinning wheel,
And feed us twice a day;
Sure, we can survive.
But that's called prison.

You can cause most of us to be happy,
By coercing us to be gay,
By effect of Super Ego,
By convincing us to castrate and mastectomate
Ourselves...
I'd sense no one in this world could feel the deep things I have felt
And have known to be good.

You can allow rape, cannibalism, pedophelia
And yet have all the pleasures of hot baths,
Electricity, slave labor and concubines;
Even the sport of entertainment
Where men will murder one another in the arenas.
I suppose in this world, no one would
Know it is wrong, and be more bestial than humane.

Sure, these things can work.
Sure, you can make the people happy.
It still doesn't make it right.
I would think most of us,
Living right now,
Would have even seen a better world.

God Was Not Wrong

Charles, God was not wrong.
Just because homosexuality appears in nature---
So does pedophilia, cannibalism,
Patricide, fratricide, murder, war,
Rape, incest, perpetual struggle
and infanticide---
Does not mean it is to be emulated
By man, or to be uphold that the behavior is good.
We are men. Not beasts.
Homosexuality is a sin
Because it devolves us back into nature's hedonism;
Back into nature's anarchy.
As is clearly being seen understood now.
We are evolved, we have bitten from the fruit.
We can judge these behaviors are wrong, and foul,
And are among the beasts. Man must rise above
The Sheep of the World, and be Sheep in Christ.