Destination

Okay, so here's what this song is about: a cabal of unspeakable evil pushes one of their members into a position of power through cloak-and-dagger espionage, clandestine assassination, and rampant animal cruelty. Their indescribably wicked schemes hinge around building a great road in between two cities, possibly a toll road. Anyways, while building this road, a freak electrical storm comes up and gives voice to the souls of their murdered enemies, who are apparently trapped in a cave, deep underground. The bad guys then get into this cave and begin experiencing strange psychological phenomena, the souls of the dearly departed acting on their brains much like the planet Solaris in the same-named novel (and film). They attempt to quantify these phenomena, but even their most advanced technology is unable to offer a scientific explanation. Then, they all die. No shit, Steve Kilbey told me this himself.

I seem to think the song is about the pressure of being on tour resulting in divorce. Peter Koppes was having marital problems which resulted in divorce around the timeframe of this recording. I feel the term destination is a double entendre meaning single(the end result of divorce) or literally cities while on tour. I won't try to interpret every line, however there are very specific lines that I feel give credence to my thoughts. In the space between our houses, some bones have been discovered, our procession lurches on as if we have recovered.... (The desolation of divorce and the pressure of having a band where "the show must go on" can't really stop making an album or touring despite personal conflict) Your little envelope just makes me cold, makes destination start to unfold.... (receiving divorce papers in the mail, being single is imminent) Our documents are useless, or forged beyond believing, page forty-seven is unsigned, I need it by this evening... (People who want to stall the inevitable will screw with divorce papers or not sign them all. Many movies have used this, where the wife is hounding the husband to sign the papers or vise versa.) In the space between our cities, a storm is slowly forming, something eating up our days, I feel it every morning. Destination (The feeling of gloom, like a storm brewing between Autrailia and L.A. where The Church had moved to recently, and having that sinking feeling every morning that you will soon be single) Distance and speed have left us too weak, and destination looks kind of bleak... (Being away from home and touring all the time takes it's toll and you have no energy to fight the divorce anymore, but still the thought of being single seems terrible even though you are no longer fighting the process) In the space between our bodies, the air has grown small fingers, with one caress your powerless, like all those clapped-out swinger. Destination (This can be one of two things, the realization that once you are single you can start sleeping around whenever the urge strikes you [carress and fingers representing temptation] or that acting on temptation has caused the divorce to begin with) * Although this is my own interpretation I feel that it's a much needed interpretation compared to what else has been given here, although the other interpretations are wildly inventive and fascinating in their own way.

I would love to know the real inspiration for these lyrics -- if actual events or mystical saga - a general statement or a literal story. Being that this band makes songs that transcend actual events and have a cosmic, universal and timeless quality, I would bet that this song might as well. Nevertheless, it could be an escape from a war-torn country (possibly religious war) and the plight of immigrants trying to survive and reach their destination.

"Our instruments have no way of measuring this feeling
Can never cut below the floor, or penetrate the ceiling.
In the space between our houses, some bones have been discovered,
But our procession lurches on, as if we had recovered."

Totalitarian government has boxed in and represses a group. To survive means having to operate while injustice and genocide attempt to defeat the members. There is no time to properly mourn when you are in the midst of war.

"Draconian winter unforetold.
One solar day, suddenly you're old.
Your little envelope just makes me cold,
Makes destination start to unfold."

Situation becomes unbearable to the point of abandoning the fight. Perhaps the group is discovered and threatened in a letter. The group flees.

"Our documents are useless, or forged beyond believing.
Page forty-seven is unsigned, I need it by this evening.
In the space between our cities, a storm is slowly forming.
Something eating up our days, I feel it every morning.
Destination, destination."

In the rush to escape, mistakes are made and time is running out and the end is near. The destination may not be made. Still the destination is keeping hope alive.

"It's not a religion, it's just a technique.
It's just a way of making you speak.
Distance and speed have left us too weak,
And destination looks kind of bleak."

The enemy has shut down the borders and has stopped and questioned members of the group, but the group is not defeated, just not very strong.

"Our elements are burned out, our beasts have been mistreated.
I tell you it's the only way we'll get this road completed.
In the space between our bodies, the air has grown small fingers.
Just one caress, you're powerless, like all those clapped-out swingers.
Destination, destination."

The group travels by night, in darkness, and by unconventional means and back roads to avoid the enemy, pushing their horses past their limits. There aren't any other options to make it down the road to reach freedom. The coldness is taking it's toll. Reminding themselves of the destination keeps them alive.

Now that I'm older and am starting to feel all that "the world is going to Hell in a handbasket" stuff, this song makes more sense to me. IMO, Kilbey was either looking ahead to that day, or he knew someone who had similar feelings, and decided to put his own spin on it.

Starting with Heyday, and working all the way through part of Priest = Aura, Kilbey seemed to write a lot of songs with a critical eye on things like progress and patterns of human folly. This song is especially chock full of little observations about and barely veiled jabs at the source of a person's growing cynicism and disillusionment.

Inevitably, however, this critical view turns inward as well. "Destination" as a recurring word can be taken many ways here, and all the points made can turn out to be metaphoric, subconsciously or not. Every element of this person's life is now seen for what it is--misplaced faith in a religion (I'm guessing something with a confessional element, such as Catholicism); too much preoccupation with business matters at the expense of real human connections; the illusion of a safe home in the suburbs shattered by the discovery of a dark secret and its evidence; the realization of the evil behind an enterprise in which the person once actively participated; the turning toward substitutes for all that is lacking; and most of all, the impending death of the person.

All this unraveling, and this sudden sight on the futility or insidiousness of a life gone by and meaning nothing...and without any more faith in the religion or enterprise, there is likely no more sense of salvation from a judgment. Destination starts to unfold, and looks kinda bleak.

I can imagine the band's record label moguls pulling their hair out over the idea that a record, especially one that they're banking on to be a hit in some way, would start off with a song like this.

(These are my personal thoughts, and may or may not be actually what the band was trying to portray.)

�Our instruments have no way of measuring this feeling Can never cut below the floor, or penetrate the ceiling.�

Even though we hunger and thirst for knowledge, we will always be boxed in and confined by the metaphorical walls that keep us in our small solar system. There are things that we will probably never understand out there.

�In the space between our houses, some bones have been discovered, But our procession lurches on, as if we had recovered.�

Death can steal our loved ones, friends, etc. at any moment… and when it does, we mourn… and eventually move on. The scars will stop hurting, but they’ll never disappear. A piece of us has been taken and can never be regained, even if we act as if we have recovered.

�Draconian winter unforetold. One solar day, suddenly you're old.�

It is totally likely that something we can’t predict will destroy us… every time we overcome a challenge, we believe that we are wise and intelligent… but, in the end, we aren’t very smart at all.

�Your little envelope just makes me cold, Makes destination start to unfold.�

I’m not sure of this… may be a reference to growing up or maturity after having sex or losing your innocence after seeing something ‘dark’ such as someone dying.

�Our documents are useless, or forged beyond believing. Page forty-seven is unsigned, I need it by this evening.�

Opinions, hype, drama, etc. will always influence our perspective on what’s true and what’s not.

�In the space between our cities, a storm is slowly forming. Something eating up our days, I feel it every morning.�

We are slowly killing ourselves. The world is on a path of self-destruction… and even though we notice it, we will soon be unable to stop it. Death is present… and I feel the least alive when I wake up in the morning.

�It's not a religion, it's just a technique. It's just a way of making you speak.�

Religion allows you to speak to God, someone you can trust in completely. You can tell him your darkest secrets and largest regrets. A bonus would be if God actually exists… because without religion, there would be a whole lot more of fucked-up people in this world.

�Distance and speed have left us too weak, And destination looks kind of bleak.�

We have spread ourselves to thin… and soon, as stated before, it will become impossible to turn back. Where we heading does, indeed, seem bleak.

�Our elements are burned out, our beasts have been mistreated. I tell you it's the only way we'll get this road completed.�

Most people don’t care that they are destroying their planet. They simply want cool gadgets, fancy homes, clean streets, etc. And will do anything to maintain these things… even if it means digging a hole that we can’t climb out of!

�In the space between our bodies, the air has grown small fingers. Just one caress, you're powerless, like all those clapped-out swingers.�

Might be referring to the fact that, most of the time, we give into our temptations rather than do what is logical/right.

�Destination, destination. � (x6+)

Self-explanatory.

This song is a premonition of the September 11th, 2001 terror attacks. Ok, not really, I know the song was penned many years prior. But the potential interpretation is rather eerie. Imagine the music video:

Our instruments have no way of measuring this feeling Show radar dish spinning, cut to the green circular screen Then cut to a few quick emotional scenes (Bush on rubble with megaphone, families crying)

Can never cut below the floor, or penetrate the ceiling. *Show firemen with axes and hatchets trying to break their way through a flaming building

In the space between our houses, some bones have been discovered, *Show twin towers, cut to rubble and ashes

But our procession lurches on, as if we had recovered. *Show a 4th of July parade

Draconian winter unforetold. *Show the 9/11 smoke plume photo in the shape of the face of the devil

One solar day, suddenly you're old. Show the sunny skyline over NYC Cut to a 9/11 funeral

Your little envelope just makes me cold, *Show somebody handing a condolences card at the funeral

Makes destination start to unfold. *Show an airport departures screen, focus on the word destination, show 9/11 city codes

Our documents are useless, or forged beyond believing. Page forty-seven is unsigned, I need it by this evening. *Show a hand showing a Saudi Arabian passport to an airport gate agent

In the space between our cities, a storm is slowly forming. *Show paper map with pushpins on NYC and Washington DC, zoom in to 3rd pin in middle on Shanksville, PA

Something eating up our days, I feel it every morning. *Show a woman waking up in king bed, alone, hits alarm clock, knocks over picture of deceased husband

Destination, destination. *Again Show an airport departures screen, focus on the word destination, show 9/11 city codes

It's not a religion, it's just a technique. *Show a protestor sign aoubt terrorism and Islam

It's just a way of making you speak. *Show a sign about "man-caused disasters"

Distance and speed have left us too weak, *Show radar screen again zoom on numbers showing distance and speed

And destination looks kind of bleak. *Show plane hitting twin towers

Our elements are burned out, *Show hot coffee pot on burner in airplane galley

our beasts have been mistreated. *Show dogs and cats in travel crates going up the conveyer into an airplane cargo hold

I tell you it's the only way we'll get this road completed.

• Show senate approving patriot act

In the space between our bodies, the air has grown small fingers. Just one caress, you're powerless, like all those clapped-out swingers.

• Show TSA groping somebody in airport

Destination, destination. *Show twin towers, pentagon, Pennsylvania field