Friday Jukebox: Heat Torture Session Edition

It is fucking hot outside.
I'm going to lie down with a cold beer and I suggest that you do the same.

(FWIW, I picked this song because 1. Mark Knopfler fucking rules, and, 2. I love the lyrics for his song. I can hear the old mercenary dying in the courtyard of the crapped-out roadside inn, sneering at the civilians and begging the priest for the absolution he suddenly understands that he so desperately craves.)

I am just an aging drummer boy
And in the wars I used to play
And I've called the tune to many a torture session.
Now they say I am a war criminal
And I'm fading away;
Father, please hear my confession.

I have legalized robbery
And called it relief.
I have run with the money
I have hid like a thief.
Rewritten histories with armies, and my crooks;
Invented memories,
And burned all the books.

And I can still hear his laughter
And I can still hear his song
The man's too big
The man's too strong.

Well, I've tried to be meek,
I have tried to be mild,
But I spat like a woman,
And I sulked like a child.
I have lived behind walls that have made me alone;
Striven for peace
Which I never have known.
And I can still hear his laughter
And I can still hear his song
The man's too big
The man's too strong.

Well, the sun rose on the courtyard
And we all did hear him say
"You always was a Judas,
But I got you anyway.
You may have got your silver
But I swear upon my life
Your sister gave me diamonds
And I gave 'em to your wife.
Oh father, please help me
For I have done wrong
The man's too big
The man's too strong."

Find some shade. It's FUCKING hot outside.