Something Is Happening Here But You Don't Know What It Is Do You, Mister Jones?

For the past two days I asked people to watch the YouTube of a new (unreleased) Nanci Griffith song, "The Loving Kind," about a young interracial couple from Virginia who fled to Washington, DC to get married, something that was illegal in Virginia... illegal for mixed race couples. Today it is illegal for same-sex couples to get married in 46 states. But it may soon be legal in DC. Right now DC recognizes civil unions but yesterday the Council voted to recognize gay marriages from any state-- 4 currently have made it legal for gay couples to wed-- and will soon vote to legalize gay marriage entirely.

That measure is expected to be introduced in the council soon and undoubtedly will pit the city against opponents in Congress, which has the final say in the District's legislative matters.

Earlier this week the Iowa Supreme Court voted unanimously to toss out the state's unconstitutional ban on same sex marriage. Bigots and demagogues on the fringes of the far right are already forecasting the end of civilization, just like they did when interracial marriage was legalized. Right-wing hate groups like the National Organization for Marriage are hysterical. After the votes in Vermont and DC yesterday, their executive director, Brian Brown, hissed that "It's a bad day for the country... there's a palpable sense that something has changed..." Something is changing, indeed, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Brown?

You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, who is that man?
You try so hard
But you dont understand
Just what you'll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, is this where it is?
And somebody points to you and says
Its his
And you say, what's mine?
And somebody else says, where what is?
And you say, oh my god
Am I here all alone?

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, how does it feel
To be such a freak?
And you say, impossible
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

You've been with the professors
And they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
Youve been through all of
F. Scott Fitzgeralds books
Youre very well read
Its well known

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Now you see this one-eyed midget
Shouting the word now
And you say, for what reason?
And he says, how?
And you say, what does this mean?
And he screams back, youre a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?