Ricochet
David Bowie Lyrics


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Like weeds on a rock face, waiting for the scythe
Ricochet
Ricochet
The world is on a corner waiting for jobs
Ricochet
Ricochet
Turn the holy pictures so they face the wall
And who can bear to be forgotten

March of flowers, march of dimes
These are the prisons, these are the crimes

Men wait for news while thousands are still asleep
Dreaming of tramlines, factories, pieces of machinery
Mine shafts things like that

March of flowers, march of dimes
These are the prisons, these are the crimes
Sound of thunder, sound of gold
Sound of the devil breaking parole
Ricochet, it's not the end of the world

Sound of thunder, sound of gold
Sound of the devil breaking parole
Ricochet, ricochet
These are the prisons, these are the crimes
Teaching life in a violent new way
Ricochet, ricochet
Turn the holy pictures so they face the wall

And who can bear to be forgotten
And who can bear to be forgotten

March of flowers, march of dimes
These are the prisons, these are the crimes

Early, before the sun, they struggle off to the gates
In their secret fearful places they see their lives
Unraveling before them

March of flowers, march of dimes
These are the prisons, these are the crimes
Sound of thunder, sound of gold
Sound of the devil breaking parole
Ricochet, it's not the end of the world

But when they get home, damp eyed and weary
They smile and crush their children to their heaving chests




Making unfulfillable promises
For who can bear to be forgotten

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of David Bowie's "Ricochet" touch upon the theme of societal confinement and the constraining effects of capitalist systems on people's lives. The opening lines of the song, "Like weeds on a rock face, waiting for the scythe, ricochet, ricochet," paint a picture of individuals waiting for their inevitable fall, much like the metaphorical scything of weeds. The use of the word "ricochet" here gives off an air of helplessness and a sense of being caught in a system that they cannot control.


The song continues to highlight people's struggles as they wait for jobs and news, while others dream of working in factories or on machinery. There is also criticism of the prison-industrial complex with lines like "March of flowers, march of dimes, these are the prisons, these are the crimes." This can be seen as a reference to the exploitation of the working class by capitalist systems. The lyrics also touch on the theme of religion and the abandonment of faith in hard times as seen in the lines "Turn the holy pictures so they face the wall, and who can bear to be forgotten."


In conclusion, the lyrics of "Ricochet" can be interpreted as Bowie's commentary on the complexities of societal systems and how they affect people's lives. The lyrics are thought-provoking and have a sense of bleakness to them, which is typical of Bowie's songwriting style.


Line by Line Meaning

Like weeds on a rock face, waiting for the scythe
People waiting for their fate, powerless to change it, resigned to being cut down like weeds


Ricochet
The sound of unpredictability, things bouncing out of control


Ricochet
The sound of unpredictability, things bouncing out of control


The world is on a corner waiting for jobs
People all over the world are struggling to find work


Ricochet
The sound of unpredictability, things bouncing out of control


Ricochet
The sound of unpredictability, things bouncing out of control


Turn the holy pictures so they face the wall
Rejecting religion and its false promises


And who can bear to be forgotten
The fear of being insignificant, worthless, and ignored


March of flowers, march of dimes
Benevolent campaigns that seem inadequate compared to the gravity of the world's problems


These are the prisons, these are the crimes
The oppressive systems in place that perpetuate suffering and injustice


Men wait for news while thousands are still asleep
People are waiting for a change, while others remain oblivious and apathetic


Dreaming of tramlines, factories, pieces of machinery
People dreaming of a better future with jobs and industry


Mine shafts things like that
Hazardous and inhumane working conditions epitomize the exploitation of labor


Sound of thunder, sound of gold
The sound of something powerful and valuable


Sound of the devil breaking parole
The sound of evil getting away with wrongdoing


Ricochet, it's not the end of the world
Even in the midst of chaos, there is hope and the world will go on


Sound of thunder, sound of gold
The sound of something powerful and valuable


Sound of the devil breaking parole
The sound of evil getting away with wrongdoing


Ricochet, ricochet
The sound of unpredictability, things bouncing out of control


These are the prisons, these are the crimes
The oppressive systems in place that perpetuate suffering and injustice


Teaching life in a violent new way
The normalization of violence and aggression as a way of life


Ricochet, ricochet
The sound of unpredictability, things bouncing out of control


Turn the holy pictures so they face the wall
Rejecting religion and its false promises


And who can bear to be forgotten
The fear of being insignificant, worthless, and ignored


And who can bear to be forgotten
The fear of being insignificant, worthless, and ignored


March of flowers, march of dimes
Benevolent campaigns that seem inadequate compared to the gravity of the world's problems


These are the prisons, these are the crimes
The oppressive systems in place that perpetuate suffering and injustice


Early, before the sun, they struggle off to the gates
People waking up early and trudging off to work, dreading the day ahead


In their secret fearful places they see their lives
The hidden fears and anxieties that plague people


Unraveling before them
Their lives falling apart, like a string unraveling


March of flowers, march of dimes
Benevolent campaigns that seem inadequate compared to the gravity of the world's problems


These are the prisons, these are the crimes
The oppressive systems in place that perpetuate suffering and injustice


Sound of thunder, sound of gold
The sound of something powerful and valuable


Sound of the devil breaking parole
The sound of evil getting away with wrongdoing


Ricochet, it's not the end of the world
Even in the midst of chaos, there is hope and the world will go on


But when they get home, damp eyed and weary
People coming home after a long and exhausting day, feeling defeated and overwhelmed


They smile and crush their children to their heaving chests
Finding joy and comfort in their families despite the hardships


Making unfulfillable promises
Promising a better future that they cannot deliver


For who can bear to be forgotten
The fear of being insignificant, worthless, and ignored




Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS
Written by: David Bowie

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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DrJKintobor


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