In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
There were 87 Advil in the bottle now there's 30 left
I ate 47 so what happened to the other 10?
Why do you suspiciously change the subject and break my concentration
As I dump the bottle out and I count the Advil up again?
Don't interrupt me as I struggle to complete this thought
Have some respect for someone more forgetful than yourself
And I'm not done
And I won't be till my head falls off
Hitting every pocket on my shirt, pants and overcoat
And I'm hitting them again but I don't know where I put my notes
Clearing my throat, and gripping the lectern I smile and face my audience
Clearing his throat and smiling with his hands on the bathroom sink
And when I lean my head against the frosted shower stall
I see stuff through the glass that I don't recognize at all
And I'm not done
And I won't be till my head falls off
Though it may not be a long way off
I'm not done talking yet
I'm not done talking yet
And when I lean my head against the frosted shower stall
I see a broken figure silhouetted on the wall
And I'm not done
And I won't be till my head falls off
Though it may not be a long way off
I won't be done until my head falls off
I ate 47 so what happened to the other 10?
Why do you suspiciously change the subject and break my concentration
As I dump the bottle out and I count the Advil up again?
Don't interrupt me as I struggle to complete this thought
Have some respect for someone more forgetful than yourself
And I'm not done
And I won't be till my head falls off
Hitting every pocket on my shirt, pants and overcoat
And I'm hitting them again but I don't know where I put my notes
Clearing my throat, and gripping the lectern I smile and face my audience
Clearing his throat and smiling with his hands on the bathroom sink
And when I lean my head against the frosted shower stall
I see stuff through the glass that I don't recognize at all
And I'm not done
And I won't be till my head falls off
Though it may not be a long way off
I'm not done talking yet
I'm not done talking yet
And when I lean my head against the frosted shower stall
I see a broken figure silhouetted on the wall
And I'm not done
And I won't be till my head falls off
Though it may not be a long way off
I won't be done until my head falls off
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