This is a hauntingly beautiful song about introspection, specifically about looking back at a relationship that started bad and ended so poorly, that the narrator wants to go back to the very beginning and tell himself to not even travel down that road. I believe that the relationship started poorly because of the lines:
"Take me back to the night we met:When the night was full of terrors: And your eyes were filled with tears: When you had not touched me yet"
So, the first night was not a great start, but the narrator pursued the relationship and eventually both overcame the rough start to fall in love with each other:
"I had all and then most of you"
Like many relationships that turn sour, it was not a quick decline, but a gradual one where the narrator and their partner fall out of love and gradually grow apart
"Some and now none of you"
Losing someone who was once everything in your world, who you could confide in, tell your secrets to, share all the most intimate parts of your life, to being strangers with that person is probably one of the most painful experiences a person can go through. So Painful, the narrator wants to go back in time and tell himself to not even pursue the relationship.
This was the perfect song for "13 Reasons Why"
Now bring it out
Like a finger in the back of your mouth
Cherubs and cerebellum, Tara at Sarah's wedding
Sam marrying Sam
Band pushed upon the finger of Sam's hairiest hand
If that sickens you, you a bigot
If it doesn't well then you wicked
Such is life
Odd as Egg McMuffins at night
No answers, so let us watch these dancers
Structure reformed gracefully being born
On the pallet of dark greys, concaves and spirals
Kaleidoscope into a Eiffel
It ripples then it tidals
Vacillates then it virals
Babylons then it Bibles and others
And tell me of the spinning mothers
And today's mathematics for beloved
And beasts' bellies covered like the cummerbunds of butlers
How was your day, can I make what you say
What I wanna hear, cause I want you here
The hell that we raised to the heavens do anything for
La petite mort, la petite mort
They keep the bottles just to make glass houses
Then climb up to the second floors and throw rocks out it
Then expect not a volley in reply
Some place vulnerable like prolly in the eye
What of the chicken? what is it missin', is it dry?
Did it die in some inhumane conditions so it didn't go relaxed
And attention from its demise pulled all of the flavor from the fat
And made it flat and rather lifeless
Well there's a place that has a stunning (?)
And more mercifully murdered Pisces
But barbaric are still the prices
It's rather niceless, apricot in dices and fromage slices
My son will call risotto rices
If and when he's left to his own devices, well
How is your memory?
Is it returning like a lemon tree
To bear bitter fruit of what you meant to me
Or was it slippin' like permission am I trippin' like Phil
I feel I'm grippin' but maybe the transmission
Still left out the life, also left out the will, grief
Will cheese never touch your teeth
Maybe like kosher beef
Is it real, is it real, is it real
Ha, hah!
How at the date can I make you my break
Cause I want you dear, ooh, I want you dear
The hell that we raised to the heavens make (?) for
Our petite mort, our petite mort
So glad you're back, but not glad at that you're glad
Where is the glamor in collapse?
Where in the shatter of the facts shoves one back to a pattern of stab wounds
Swoon ridden goons consumed and driven mad soon
The attended years slowly fills with baboons
That other monkey business
Where killers go free cause a junkie's a funky witness
Runny mascaras from the cunning mask wearers of death
Bygone errors, sittin' like two oil derricks
Separated by a sea of cooling num nums
Reminiscing of an every day playing hum drum
Where recognition went unnoticed
And then solidified till it was stoic
We should've been poets
Somewhere between amateurs and grandmasters of iambic pentameter
How are your chains, do they make you behave
Keep you over here, by your overseer
Fallen from grace down from heaven to memories (?)
La petite mort, la petite mort
Like a finger in the back of your mouth
Cherubs and cerebellum, Tara at Sarah's wedding
Sam marrying Sam
Band pushed upon the finger of Sam's hairiest hand
If that sickens you, you a bigot
If it doesn't well then you wicked
Such is life
Odd as Egg McMuffins at night
No answers, so let us watch these dancers
Structure reformed gracefully being born
On the pallet of dark greys, concaves and spirals
Kaleidoscope into a Eiffel
It ripples then it tidals
Vacillates then it virals
Babylons then it Bibles and others
And tell me of the spinning mothers
And today's mathematics for beloved
And beasts' bellies covered like the cummerbunds of butlers
How was your day, can I make what you say
What I wanna hear, cause I want you here
The hell that we raised to the heavens do anything for
La petite mort, la petite mort
They keep the bottles just to make glass houses
Then climb up to the second floors and throw rocks out it
Then expect not a volley in reply
Some place vulnerable like prolly in the eye
What of the chicken? what is it missin', is it dry?
Did it die in some inhumane conditions so it didn't go relaxed
And attention from its demise pulled all of the flavor from the fat
And made it flat and rather lifeless
Well there's a place that has a stunning (?)
And more mercifully murdered Pisces
But barbaric are still the prices
It's rather niceless, apricot in dices and fromage slices
My son will call risotto rices
If and when he's left to his own devices, well
How is your memory?
Is it returning like a lemon tree
To bear bitter fruit of what you meant to me
Or was it slippin' like permission am I trippin' like Phil
I feel I'm grippin' but maybe the transmission
Still left out the life, also left out the will, grief
Will cheese never touch your teeth
Maybe like kosher beef
Is it real, is it real, is it real
Ha, hah!
How at the date can I make you my break
Cause I want you dear, ooh, I want you dear
The hell that we raised to the heavens make (?) for
Our petite mort, our petite mort
So glad you're back, but not glad at that you're glad
Where is the glamor in collapse?
Where in the shatter of the facts shoves one back to a pattern of stab wounds
Swoon ridden goons consumed and driven mad soon
The attended years slowly fills with baboons
That other monkey business
Where killers go free cause a junkie's a funky witness
Runny mascaras from the cunning mask wearers of death
Bygone errors, sittin' like two oil derricks
Separated by a sea of cooling num nums
Reminiscing of an every day playing hum drum
Where recognition went unnoticed
And then solidified till it was stoic
We should've been poets
Somewhere between amateurs and grandmasters of iambic pentameter
How are your chains, do they make you behave
Keep you over here, by your overseer
Fallen from grace down from heaven to memories (?)
La petite mort, la petite mort
Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher
Little Death Lyrics as written by Wasalu Jaco Nikki Jean
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Bluewater Music Corp.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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The Night We Met
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Same ideas expressed in Fitter, Happier are expressed in this song. We're told to strive for some sort of ideal life, which includes getting a good job, being kind to everyone, finding a partner, getting married, having a couple kids, living in a quiet neighborhood in a nice big house, etc. But in Fitter, Happier the narrator(?) realizes that it's incredibly robotic to live this life. People are being used by those in power "like a pig in a cage on antibiotics"--being pacified with things like new phones and cool gadgets and houses while being sucked dry. On No Surprises, the narrator is realizing how this life is killing him slowly. In the video, his helmet is slowly filling up with water, drowning him. But he's so complacent with it. This is a good summary of the song. This boring, "perfect" life foisted upon us by some higher powers (not spiritual, but political, economic, etc. politicians and businessmen, perhaps) is not the way to live. But there is seemingly no way out but death. He'd rather die peacefully right now than live in this cage. While our lives are often shielded, we're in our own protective bubbles, or protective helmets like the one Thom wears, if we look a little harder we can see all the corruption, lies, manipulation, etc. that is going on in the world, often run by huge yet nearly invisible organizations, corporations, and 'leaders'. It's a very hopeless song because it reflects real life.
Just A Little Lovin'
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"'Just a Little Lovin’ is a timeless country song originally recorded by Eddy Arnold in 1954. The song, written by Eddie Miller and Jimmy Campbell, explores the delicate nuances of love and showcases Arnold’s emotive vocals. It delves into the universal theme of love and how even the smallest gesture of affection can have a profound impact on our lives." https://oldtimemusic.com/the-meaning-behind-the-song-just-a-little-lovin-by-eddy-arnold/
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Page
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