Song Title: Choose Your Own Perfume
* Grand Prize Winner *
Songwriter: Chris
Hawkins
Carine, Australia
Source of Inspiration: Fahrenheit
451
Author: Ray Bradbury
How to reach Chris: cjhawkins@iinet.net.au
Chris's URL: http://members.iinet.net.au/~chawkins/
Quote from the songwriter:
I actually got three sets of lyrics out of this book! I
loved it. Bradbury writes powerfully on several issues in the
book, two of which I really wanted to say something about; (a)
the value of protecting the right of free speech and (b) the
sanitizing of the right to free speech so as to not offend anyone.
The need for truth and choice in written expression is woven
throughout the sung lyrics, with the song's title emphasizing
how important it is to be thoughtful and assertive as a human.
The loss of "perfume" through censorship and political
correctness is expressed in the "rap" section of the
song.
Lyrics to the song:
I might look happy all the time
Though all my books are hid
My smile never disappeared
But the reason for it did
If a book is a loaded gun
Pointed straight between my eyes
I’d rather die between the leaves
Than live a life of lies
In this world you can choose your own perfume
I know that I look just like you
We all appear the same
But something deep inside of me
Is tired of this game
We were not all born equal
In body or in mind
And keeping everyone happy
Is no reason to keep me blind
I’m not the same as everybody else
And I don’t see why speaking my mind
Should threaten you at all
You’re not the same as me or as my friends
And I don’t see why I should be confined
By someone else’s wall
In this world you can choose your own perfume
Right now you got kerosene for perfume
Sand for sugar, dry flowers for new blooms
Incarceration for peace in the street
TV stations for people to meet
For silence there’s cities and traffic and fire
For laughter and crying just paper and wire
A sewer for surf, sleep for euphoria
Thoughts artificial phantasmagoria
High speed for release, strangers for parents,
Home becomes city, friends become servants
Reading is feeding by voices so flat
And learning is nothing but hand to hand combat
Fire is wasted on paper and ink
Smoke is the enemy of all those who think
And hidden in attics and in people’s heads
Are the words of the future hanging by threads
I won’t agree to second best
There are mountains for me to climb
I’ll read what I want, say what I want
There may never be a next time
I’m not the same as everybody else
And I don’t see why speaking my mind
Should threaten you at all
You’re not the same as me or as my friends
And I don’t see why I should be confined
By someone else’s wall
In this world you can choose your own perfume
© Chris Hawkins
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