Lee Heidhues 2.14.2023
San Francisco tries in vain to crack down on drug use on the streets.
Seemingly unable to adopt a policy which provides necessary treatment.
The forces of law and order push for harsh treatment against those who sell the product.
As City Hall dawdles people continue to die on the streets.
Makes me harken back to 1967 when Van Morrison released his classic song T.B. Sheets. It was a staple on KSAN FM rock radio and I heard it nearly every night.
T.B. Sheets is a haunting and prophetic composition.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T.B._Sheets
Painting above: Cristóbal Rojas: “La miseria” (1886) (Galería de Arte Nacional, Caracas; Wikipedia)
Following are the lyrics to the song.
Now, listen, Julie baby
It ain’t natural for you to cry in the midnight
It ain’t natural for you to cry when the midnight comes…
Into the wee small hours, long ‘fore the break of dawn
Oh, Lord
Now, Julie, an’ there ain’t nothin’ on my mind
More further ‘way than what you’re lookin’ for
I see the way you jumped at me, Lord, from behind the door
And looked into my eyes
Your little star struck innuendos, inadequacies an’ foreign bodies
And the sunlight shining through the crack in the window pane
Numbs my brain
And the sunlight shining through the crack in the window pane
Numbs my brain, oh, Lord
So, open up the window and let me breathe
I said, open up the window and let me breathe
I’m looking down to the street below, Lord, I cried for you
I cried, I cried for you, oh Lord
The cool room, Lord, is a fool’s room
The cool room, Lord, is a fool’s room
And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets
And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets
On your sick bed
I gotta go, I gotta go
And you said, “Please, stay I wanna, I wanna
I want a drink of water, I want a drink of water
Go in the kitchen, get me a drink of water”
I said, “I gotta go, I gotta go, baby”
I said, “I’ll send, I’ll send somebody around, later
You know we got John comin’ around here later
With a bottle of wine for you, baby, but I gotta go”
The cool room, Lord, is a fool’s room
The cool room, Lord, Lord, is a fool’s room
And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets
I can almost smell your T.B. sheets, T.B.
I gotta go, I’ll send around, send around one that grumbles later on, babe
See what I can pick up for you, you know that
Yeah, I got a few things going too
Don’t worry about it, don’t worry about it, don’t worry
Go, go, go, go, gotta go
Gotta, gotta go, gotta go, gotta go
All right all right
I turned on the radio, wanna hear a few tunes
Turn on the radio for you
There you go, there you go
There you go, baby, there you go
You’ll be all right too, yeah
I know it ain’t funny, it ain’t funny at all, baby
You laying in the cool room, man
You laying in the cool room, in the cool room
Lee's Perspective 