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.
Why are we racing to be so old?
I'm up late pacing the floor
I won't be told
You have your reservations
I'm bought and sold
I'll face the music
I'll face the facts
Even when we walk in polka dots and checker slacks
Bowing and squawking
Running after tidbits
Bobbing and squinting
Just like a nitwit
Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
One little Hitler does the other one's will
I will return
I will not burn
Down in the basement
I need my head examined
I need my eyes excited
I'd like to join the party
But I was not invited
You make a member of me
I'll be delighted
I wouldn't cry for lost souls, you might drown
Dirty words for dirty minds
Written in a toilet town
Dial me a Valentine
She's a smooth operator
It's all so calculated
She's got a calculator
She's my soft touch typewriter
And I'm the great dictator
Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
One little Hitler does the other one's will
I will return
I will not burn
A simple game of self-respect
You flick a switch and the world goes off
Nobody jumps as you expect
I would have thought you would have had enough by now
You call selective dating
For some effective mating
I thought I'd let you down, dear
But you were just deflating
I knew right from the start
We'd end up hating
Pictures of the merchandise
Plastered on the wall
We can look so long as we don't have to talk at all
You say you'll never know him
He's an unnatural man
He doesn't want your pleasure
He wants as no one can
He wants to know the names of
All those he's better than
Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
One little Hitler does the other one's will
I will return
I will not burn
I will return
I will not burn
I will return
I will not burn
I'm up late pacing the floor
I won't be told
You have your reservations
I'm bought and sold
I'll face the music
I'll face the facts
Even when we walk in polka dots and checker slacks
Bowing and squawking
Running after tidbits
Bobbing and squinting
Just like a nitwit
Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
One little Hitler does the other one's will
I will return
I will not burn
Down in the basement
I need my head examined
I need my eyes excited
I'd like to join the party
But I was not invited
You make a member of me
I'll be delighted
I wouldn't cry for lost souls, you might drown
Dirty words for dirty minds
Written in a toilet town
Dial me a Valentine
She's a smooth operator
It's all so calculated
She's got a calculator
She's my soft touch typewriter
And I'm the great dictator
Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
One little Hitler does the other one's will
I will return
I will not burn
A simple game of self-respect
You flick a switch and the world goes off
Nobody jumps as you expect
I would have thought you would have had enough by now
You call selective dating
For some effective mating
I thought I'd let you down, dear
But you were just deflating
I knew right from the start
We'd end up hating
Pictures of the merchandise
Plastered on the wall
We can look so long as we don't have to talk at all
You say you'll never know him
He's an unnatural man
He doesn't want your pleasure
He wants as no one can
He wants to know the names of
All those he's better than
Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
One little Hitler does the other one's will
I will return
I will not burn
I will return
I will not burn
I will return
I will not burn
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I especially liked this song back when I was regularly spinning this disk; in particular because of the dry humor ("It's all so calculated/She's got a calculator/...")
These are such nice descriptions of sundry component attitudes that go into a certain kind of relationship mentality; the jealousy, the one-upsmanship, the shallow linking of emotional "connection" with pop culture ("Pictures of the merchandise"), disappointment as de rigeur, the valuing of quantity over quality ("She's got a calculator"). I'm tellin' ya; this song is a little jewel box!