I'm coming into your town.
Night is falling to the ground,
But I can still see where you loved yourself
Before he tore it all down. April 12th,

With nobody else around; you were outside the house
(where's your mother)
When he put you in the car,
When he took you down the road.

And I can still see where it was open,
The door he slammed closed.
It was open, the door he slammed closed.
It was open, long ago.

But don't lose me now, don't lose me now.
Though I know that I'm not useful anyhow,
Just let me stick around while I tell you, like before,
You should say his name the way that he said yours.

But you don't want to say his name anymore.
Oh, Cynda Moore.

Baby daughter on the road,
You're wrapped up warm in daddy's coat.
And I can still see the cigarette's heat.
I can't believe all that you're telling me,

What is cutting like the smoke through your teeth as you're telling me â??forget it.â??
But if I could tear his throat,
And spill his blood between my jaws,
And erase his name out for good, don't you know that I would?

Don't you realize that I wouldn't pause,
That I would cut him down with my claws
If I could have somehow never let that happen?
Or I'd call, some black midnight,

Fuck up his new life where they don't know what he did,
Tell his brand-new wife and his second kid.
Though I tell you, like before,
That you should wreck his life the way that he wrecked yours,

You want no part of his life anymore.
Oh Cynda Moore.

Don't lose me now, let me help you out.
Though I know that I can't help anyhow,
When I watch you I'm proud.
When I tell you twice before

That you should wreck his life the way that he wrecked yours,
You want no part of his life anymore.
Oh Cyna Moore.
And it'll never be the way it was before,

But I wish that you would let me through that door.
Let me through that door.


Lyrics submitted by XeF4, edited by crowjanie, roryjh

Black Lyrics as written by Matthew Wilder Rebecca Johnson

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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Black song meanings
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    General Comment

    from jamisonlikewhat.com:

    “Black” is a fluff-pop explosion of the most potent kind: theatric, runny-egg organs, bleeding-heart bass via the decade of 1980, pre-chorus build-ups worthy of WHAM!, themselves– one could mistake it for a bastard Cure b-side, were the whole ordeal not held in check by the delicious alt-country yelp of Dr. Will Sheff, Okkervil River’s primary singer/songwriter. The saying goes that all the best cowboys have daddy issues and Sheff does the next best thing in their absence: Finds a girlfriend with a couple, “But if I could tear his throat/ Spill his blood between my jaws/ And erase his name for good/ Don’t you know that I would.” No, you’re not about to download the new Slayer record– in fact, a casual listen doesn’t even disclose Sheff’s lyrical lynchings; such an infectious melody is rarely employed for singing about anything besides sunshine and lollipops. The stark contrast between sound and verse does serve to amplify the grievous wrongs done, though, and besides, for all Sheff’s barking, his gal seems to have put it behind her, “Don’t lose me now/ I’ll help you out/ Though I know I’m not useful anyhow/ Just let me stick around.” I wish I could write about how this song isn’t as morbid as I’m making it sound. I can’t. It’s an up-tempo funeral dirge about feeling useless, inept, and bitter while taking a stroll down Sesame Street– everything has gone to shit, but hey, the weather’s nice.

    jamisonlikewhaton January 28, 2006   Link

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