This is about bronies. They communicate by stomping.
I've earned myself an impossible crime
I have to paint myself a hole and fall inside
and if it's far enough in sight and rhyme
I get to wear another dress and count in time
Oh won't you do me the favor man
of forgiving my
poly-morphing opinion here
on your vague outline
Find myself another burning gate
a pretty face, a vague idea I can't relate
And this is what you get for pulling pins
another hole inside the hole you're in
It's like I'm perched on the handlebars
of a blind man's bike
No straws to grab just the rushing wind...
on a rolling mind
They'll want you to decide
eventually it happens
Some gather on one side
with all their pearlys snapping
They close the basement door
that sets our teeth to chatter
You never saw it before
but now that hardly matters
You're old enough boy
too many summers you've enjoyed
So spin the wheel we'll set you up
with some odd convictions
as you're finally golden boy
It's like I'm perched on the handlebars
of a blind man's bike
No straws to grab just the rushing wind...
on a rolling mind
I have to paint myself a hole and fall inside
and if it's far enough in sight and rhyme
I get to wear another dress and count in time
Oh won't you do me the favor man
of forgiving my
poly-morphing opinion here
on your vague outline
Find myself another burning gate
a pretty face, a vague idea I can't relate
And this is what you get for pulling pins
another hole inside the hole you're in
It's like I'm perched on the handlebars
of a blind man's bike
No straws to grab just the rushing wind...
on a rolling mind
They'll want you to decide
eventually it happens
Some gather on one side
with all their pearlys snapping
They close the basement door
that sets our teeth to chatter
You never saw it before
but now that hardly matters
You're old enough boy
too many summers you've enjoyed
So spin the wheel we'll set you up
with some odd convictions
as you're finally golden boy
It's like I'm perched on the handlebars
of a blind man's bike
No straws to grab just the rushing wind...
on a rolling mind
Lyrics submitted by heyheyhey111, edited by NexusA, PapaBrain, pinkredrabbits, embiggenator
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Wow - what an exceptional CD and an exceptional song!
Perhaps it seems contradictory to the whole concept of "indie" music, but I think this song is a description of what Mercer is going through now, with his success, and the accompanying conflict between his desire to be completely free to do the music he wishes at a comfortable pace, versus pressure from investors/managers for music that fits their marketing plans.
I think he's saying that he's had to succumb to pressures to set a consistent, recognizable style for the band, and that's the "hole" he's had to dig for himself - though not totally bad: "It gets far enough in sight and rhyme I get to wear another dress in counting time"
And being an extremely creative fellow, Mercer's music is constantly evolving, which presents a conundrum to the business side: "Oh won't you do me the favor, man Of forgiving my poly-morphing opinion here And your vague outline"
And with this latest album there was an artistic reevaluation, due to Mercers new "vague ideal", and yet another marketing/growth reassessment; with a new set of rules: "And this is what you get for pulling pins - Another hole inside the hole you're in"
He was allowed a significant amount of choice in choosing the shape of the new hole ("They want you to decide"), but it's still a hole - There were many conditions that had to be met - there still had to be a certain consistent, marketable sound - a trademark sound that the money men were comfortable with.
After a time, decisions get made through a chaotic consensus - with each concern justifying the decisions with their own peculiar language and sophistry: "Eventually, it happens, Some gather on one side with all their pearly snapping"
And then Mercer and the other Shins are obliged to go to the studio - Mercer's basement studio? - and make the thing happen: "They close the basement door, It sets our teeth to chatter You never saw it before But now that hardly matters"
So, to conclude: The band's mushrooming success is forcing Mercer to largely let go of control of artistic direction, and surrender a great deal to the break-neck speed and relatively arbitrary (blind man's) guidance of the forces of money. Sounds like besides being confining, the success and accompanying pressures are intimidating, and a bit overwhelming - and Mercer is struggling to continue to enjoy the whole mess. Extremely talented people are often extremely sensitive and conscientious. I hope he's coping well. Maybe we can all support the guy with letters of encouragement and appreciation.
BTW, GrungyBeatle, I hear Grim, but not Sarcastic in the lyrics of this album. I don't own any others by the Shins.