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New Hampshire Lyrics
i saw a modest dream
the kind that can’t speak up
and lost before it’s let out
in the north we hold our tongues
but down here i believe
when you pull your hair back it’s so easy to see
this has not been thought through
there are things that we’ve done that we cannot undo
there are things i can’t hear when we’re telling the truth
at a table out in bethel
when i was thirteen
the criminals were saying
liked how i was silent
the cold was the container
for the sparseness of our speech
the expression in our hands
was all that we’d need
but down here i believe
that i made a big deal with a girl that can’t bleed
now I see red and black
and evening that kills i want to take it back
an evening that kills and i can’t take it back
i’m going home back to new hampshire
i’m so determined
to lay in lakes and see my sisters
i will hit my brother and hold my mother
this probably won’t work out
we might not live forever
while there’s nothing to confess
please pay attention
and i know that it’s brief
there’s not nearly enough in one night to have seen
what you had in your hand
was much more than the gold that i let go to grab
so much more than the gold that i let go to grab
the kind that can’t speak up
and lost before it’s let out
in the north we hold our tongues
when you pull your hair back it’s so easy to see
this has not been thought through
there are things that we’ve done that we cannot undo
there are things i can’t hear when we’re telling the truth
when i was thirteen
the criminals were saying
liked how i was silent
for the sparseness of our speech
the expression in our hands
was all that we’d need
that i made a big deal with a girl that can’t bleed
now I see red and black
and evening that kills i want to take it back
an evening that kills and i can’t take it back
i’m so determined
to lay in lakes and see my sisters
i will hit my brother and hold my mother
we might not live forever
while there’s nothing to confess
please pay attention
there’s not nearly enough in one night to have seen
what you had in your hand
was much more than the gold that i let go to grab
so much more than the gold that i let go to grab
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God..this song is so beautiful. I love the last line. "What you had in your hand was much more than the gold that i let go to grab"...wow.
really beatiful song.
purely ethereal. there is nothing about this song that isnt competely beautiful. each instrument and verse and bridge, fits almost too perfectly. the song, it is full of compassion and beauty, and sadness, and it makes me want to visit new hampshire more than anything. great job, mr. pond.
soft, smooth and beautiful.
it's beautiful.
From Matt Pond:
Growing up in New Hampshire, we were raised on restraint.
My friends who lived across the Connecticut River in Vermont were even more muffled. Most of their parents were farmers and didn’t want to hear the brays or neighs of anything beyond the barn. We would keep to ourselves even when were together. If we were going to listen to something, it was The Beatles or the Kinks or the Talking Heads.
The song New Hampshire partially contends with that quiet. A minor mafia character once said, in so many words, that he appreciated how I knew to shut up. (In my book, this ranks as the number one compliment of all time)
it's about leaving what you already have to "test the market" and realizing that you made a mistake. simply put, a beautiful song.
This song is what got me hooked on matt pond PA. It's so simple and so cute of a song. Pretty in a soft way.
I love the song and it's also one of my favorite states, lived there for 6 years.
This song brought me to Matt Pond PA via Pandora. I've always thought this song is about a crossroads in his life where the choices were girl vs career. He chose career, and while successful, regrets that he forewent the love he held in his hands years before. He has moved on with less-passionate option (a girl who can't bleed), and only in quiet private moments that you can't speak of, he remembers, maybe longs, for the one that got away. His maturity also allows Matt to cut himself some slack (not nearly enough time in one night to have seen). He partially blames his parents (criminals) for stifling his verbalization of feelings, but it ultimately led to his music (hands). Ultimately, I think, he recognizes that in the grand scheme it’s not some huge crime that needs confessing, he simply remembers a woman he wishes he'd pursued, but realizes he can't go back
[Edit: Typo]