I know we've had fun with bad music . . .

over at HE's the past two days, but the last two days I heard three of the most wonderful and saddest pieces of music on our local public radio station.
Tonight, on the way home, i listened to Shostakovitch's musical adaptation of the poen 'Babi Yar.' Just go google 'Babi Yar' first and then imagine what a Russian felt.
And yesterday, the station's afternoon Americana music program played two songs that caught me really short after a 20-hour day, two hours of sleep and another six hours of work.

Johnny Cash - obviously in his later years and probably before June died - sang the cleanest, clearest, minimalist, most gut-wrenching "If You Could Read My Mind."

And a few minutes later, they played a bluegrass version of "Eleanor Rigby" mainly with mandolin and dulcimer but with no vocals and even sadder than the original.

I'm going to go have my tear ducts removed.