"Fast car" is kind of a continuation of Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run." It has all the clawing your way to a better life, but in this case the protagonist never makes it with her love; in fact she is dragged back down by him.
There is still an amazing amount of hope and will in the lyrics; and the lyrics themselve rank and easy five. If only music was stronger it would be one of those great radio songs that you hear once a week 20 years after it was released. The imagery is almost tear-jerking ("City lights lay out before us", "Speeds so fast felt like I was drunk"), and the idea of starting from nothing and just driving and working and denigrating yourself for a chance at being just above poverty, then losing in the end is just painful and inspiring at the same time.
Dawning day.
Mothers would wake and feed their children.
Our brothers would awake to mend their nets and sails.
They had the light of a boundless day dawning.
And a burning, living, driving will.
Meanwhile the old men sit on the top of a hill
wading through your legislation.
Wading trudging through your debate
about whether or not
to send
another hundred thousand young men and women
off
into the hurricane.
No taxation without representation.
We will not pay a toll in blood
The old men were sitting on top of the hill
while young girls
ushered playful ghosts by the creek.
Singing, they are following
golden fish into the marsh's reeds.
The old men sit on top of the hill
of 58,000.
Walking.
Walking across the plain,
I am descending.
Six feet underground,
you send me here.
Every name,
every name,
upon this wall.
You send me here,
six feet under.
Why don't you take a short walk?
Walk out of your oval office.
Walk out of the state house.
Take a short walk across the lawn
and descend to six feet under
and read those names.
You're debating,
you’re still debating whether or not to send me here.
You're debating, you're debating,
whether or not to send more over there.
Six feet under,
you really do carry my weight.
Bats grazing in the sky
in the night sky above our houses.
Lightning bugs rising higher and higher.
As the sun leaves behind,
this valley,
this waking valley song…
a memorial.
Six feet to be under
you really did carry my weight.
The earth, I confess, is not me
but you in our unhappy state.
And you're still debating,
debating,
debating…
What is this?
A voice in his head.
A voice comes quick and it fades on.
It is this waking valley song.
Archaic and bent with time.
It is this memory.
It is this memory.
Mothers would wake and feed their children.
Our brothers would awake to mend their nets and sails.
They had the light of a boundless day dawning.
And a burning, living, driving will.
Meanwhile the old men sit on the top of a hill
wading through your legislation.
Wading trudging through your debate
about whether or not
to send
another hundred thousand young men and women
off
into the hurricane.
No taxation without representation.
We will not pay a toll in blood
The old men were sitting on top of the hill
while young girls
ushered playful ghosts by the creek.
Singing, they are following
golden fish into the marsh's reeds.
The old men sit on top of the hill
of 58,000.
Walking.
Walking across the plain,
I am descending.
Six feet underground,
you send me here.
Every name,
every name,
upon this wall.
You send me here,
six feet under.
Why don't you take a short walk?
Walk out of your oval office.
Walk out of the state house.
Take a short walk across the lawn
and descend to six feet under
and read those names.
You're debating,
you’re still debating whether or not to send me here.
You're debating, you're debating,
whether or not to send more over there.
Six feet under,
you really do carry my weight.
Bats grazing in the sky
in the night sky above our houses.
Lightning bugs rising higher and higher.
As the sun leaves behind,
this valley,
this waking valley song…
a memorial.
Six feet to be under
you really did carry my weight.
The earth, I confess, is not me
but you in our unhappy state.
And you're still debating,
debating,
debating…
What is this?
A voice in his head.
A voice comes quick and it fades on.
It is this waking valley song.
Archaic and bent with time.
It is this memory.
It is this memory.
Lyrics submitted by omae_, edited by kete, Ouroboros115
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Fast Car
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The bridge shows signs of longing and a plea for companionship. The Lyrics express a desire for authentic connection and the importance of Loving someone just as they are. "Just in passing, I'm not asking. That you be anyone but you”
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by ear, again. any corrections, let me know.
WARNING long winded editorial unlike most 'emo' bands, and part of what made moss icon so great and hard to define by this generic term, is that as time went on, instead of getting more introspectively personal and obtuse, they widened their scope musically and lyrically to move from suburban middle-class 'emo' cliche issues like alienation, hating your parents and/or friends, feeling bad after a breakup, etc. to issues of real substance. touching on things like the environment, native peoples, dare i say even "spirituality," etc. without going the way of laughable new age-ism or the even-then already worn out punk rock standard musical styles. all this with an amazing lyricism... look at sioux day, cornflower blue, lyburnum wits end, memorial, etc. for examples of this. instead of the accusatory 'you' in most emo/punk/alternative music that attempts to be revolutionary or political, the voice in their later songs changed entirely to narrative, or putting the 'you' into a wholly different context.