• November 2011
  • BLOOD ON THE RISERS/SMOKE ON THE WATER/MONEY/MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME|Musica Universalis (the music of the spheres)|Forum|Forum: Apocalypse & Armageddon

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    BLOOD ON THE RISERS/SMOKE ON THE WATER/MONEY/MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME
    May 8, 2015
    4:56 am
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    cyber west hollyweird
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    November 11, 2011
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    Thought you my enjoy my friend Luke Cissell's arrangement of My Old Kentucky Home he sent out for Derby Day.

    feature=youtu.be

    also "Money"

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?.....ifHdnkCdUM

    The second part is just some of my old Paratrooper humor.

    and:

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    A letter to Luke Cissell:

    Part of your My Old Kentucky Home arrangement reminded me of some movie soundtrack. Getting old and forgetful. Might have been Last Of The Mohicans.

    Later I thought, might be neat to find someone who had the voice inflection to sing the lyrics (maybe someone good at scat) to your arrangement with a sound like either extreme: Ray Charles or Kate Bush.

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------

    There was a song we liked to sing up in the big cargo planes right before we had a bunch of new guys making their first jump with the 82nd Airborne Division. It was about a rookie jumper whose parachute didn't open, and goes to the tune of The Battle Hymn Of The Republic. The idea, of course, was to try to make them as nervous as hell before that first leap into the big leagues. We called that first jump their "Cherry Blast."

    I thought that was too antiquated and so changed the tune to Deep Purple's Smoke On The Water. Had to change the chorus a little ( the "risers" are the straps that run from your parachute harness up to the nylon strings, or cords, that actually attach to the parachute itself. You pull the risers to control which direction you want to go).

    Deep Purple Chorus (Blood on the risers replaces Smoke on the water in the chorus):

    Blood on the risers,
    See him fallin' from the sky
    You know he's gonna die
    Blood on the risers...
    (dunt dunt dunt, dunt duh de dah)

    The Original

    J. H. Kight Copyright 1943 (during WWII)

    He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright,
    He checked all his equipment and made sure his pack was tight;
    He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar,
    "You ain't gonna jump no more!"

    (CHORUS)

    "Is everybody happy?" cried the Sergeant looking up,
    Our Hero feebly answered "Yes," and then they stood him up;
    He jumped into the icy blast, his static line unhooked,
    He ain't gonna jump no more.

    (CHORUS)

    He counted long, he counted loud, he waited for the shock,
    He felt the wind, he felt the cold, he felt the awful drop,
    The silk from his reserves spilled out, and wrapped around his legs,
    He ain't gonna jump no more.

    (CHORUS)

    The risers swung around his neck, connectors cracked his dome,
    Suspension lines were tied in knots around his skinny bones;
    The canopy became his shroud; he hurtled to the ground.
    He ain't gonna jump no more.

    (CHORUS)

    The days he'd lived and loved and laughed kept running through his mind,
    He thought about the girl back home, the one he'd left behind;
    He thought about the medic corps, and wondered what they'd find,
    He ain't gonna jump no more.

    (CHORUS)

    The ambulance was on the spot, the jeeps were running wild,
    The medics jumped and screamed with glee, they rolled their sleeves and smiled,
    For it had been a week or more since last a 'Chute had failed,
    He ain't gonna jump no more.

    (CHORUS)

    He hit the ground, the sound was "SPLAT", his blood went spurting high;
    His comrades, they were heard to say "A hell of a way to die!"
    He lay there, rolling 'round in the welter of his gore,
    He ain't gonna jump no more.

    (CHORUS)

    (slowly, solemnly; about half the speed of the other verses)
    There was blood upon the risers, there were brains upon the chute,
    Intestines were a-dangling from his paratroopers suit,
    He was a mess, they picked him up, and poured him from his boots,
    He ain't gonna jump no more.

    (CHORUS, original to tune The Battle Hymn Of The Republic)

    Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
    Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
    Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
    He ain't gonna jump no more!

    ----------------------------------------------------------

    Actually, most of the time, you are so well trained, routine training parachute jumps are about as exciting as riding that big double Ferris wheel at the State Fair. When you come out of the plane the whole world looks like God's Great Big Toy Train Set (there's a title for a song) in miniature out there, until you get down to about 40 feet from off the ground where suddenly you get what we call the "Ground Rush" where everything suddenly rushes back up to scale to normal life-size human perspective and suddenly you are back in the 9-to-5 world again.

    D.

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