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.
He fills the flower vases
Trims the candle bases
Takes small change from the poor box
Tyler has the key
He takes nail and hammer
To tack up the banner of felt scraps glued together Reading, "Jesus Lives In Me"
Alone in the night he mocks
The words of the preacher:
"God is feeling your every pain."
Repair the Christmas stable
Restore the plaster angel
Her lips begin to crumble and her robes begin to peel
For Bible study in the church basement
Hear children Gospel citing, Matthew 17:15.
Alone in the night he mocks the arms of the preacher Raised to the ceiling
"Tell God your pain."
To him the world's defiled
In Lot he sees a likeness there;
He swears this Sodom will burn down
Near Sacred Blood there's a dance hall
Where Tyler Glen saw
A black girl and a white boy kissing shamelessly
Black hands on white shoulders
White hands on black shoulders
Dancing, and you know what's more
He's God's mad disciple
A righteous title, for the Word
He heard he so misunderstood
Though simple minded
A crippled man, to know this man is to fear this man
To shake when he comes
Wasn't it God that let Puritans in Salem
Do what they did to the unfaithful
Boys at the Jubilee
Slowly sink into brown bag whiskey drinking
And reeling on their feet
Girls at the Jubilee
In low-cut dresses yield to the caresses
And the man-handling
Black hands on white shoulders
White hands on black shoulders
Dancing, and you know what's more
Through the tall blades of grass
He heads for the Jubilee
With a bucket in his right hand
Full of rags soaked in gasoline
He lifts the shingles in the dark
And slips the rags there underneath
He strikes a matchstick on the box
side and watches the rags ignite
He climbs the bell tower of the Sacred Blood
To watch the flames
Rising higher toward the trees
Sirens wailing now toward the scene.
Trims the candle bases
Takes small change from the poor box
Tyler has the key
He takes nail and hammer
To tack up the banner of felt scraps glued together Reading, "Jesus Lives In Me"
Alone in the night he mocks
The words of the preacher:
"God is feeling your every pain."
Repair the Christmas stable
Restore the plaster angel
Her lips begin to crumble and her robes begin to peel
For Bible study in the church basement
Hear children Gospel citing, Matthew 17:15.
Alone in the night he mocks the arms of the preacher Raised to the ceiling
"Tell God your pain."
To him the world's defiled
In Lot he sees a likeness there;
He swears this Sodom will burn down
Near Sacred Blood there's a dance hall
Where Tyler Glen saw
A black girl and a white boy kissing shamelessly
Black hands on white shoulders
White hands on black shoulders
Dancing, and you know what's more
He's God's mad disciple
A righteous title, for the Word
He heard he so misunderstood
Though simple minded
A crippled man, to know this man is to fear this man
To shake when he comes
Wasn't it God that let Puritans in Salem
Do what they did to the unfaithful
Boys at the Jubilee
Slowly sink into brown bag whiskey drinking
And reeling on their feet
Girls at the Jubilee
In low-cut dresses yield to the caresses
And the man-handling
Black hands on white shoulders
White hands on black shoulders
Dancing, and you know what's more
Through the tall blades of grass
He heads for the Jubilee
With a bucket in his right hand
Full of rags soaked in gasoline
He lifts the shingles in the dark
And slips the rags there underneath
He strikes a matchstick on the box
side and watches the rags ignite
He climbs the bell tower of the Sacred Blood
To watch the flames
Rising higher toward the trees
Sirens wailing now toward the scene.
Lyrics submitted by killjoy966
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