Centennial

I see this song as a letter from a guy to his ex. She comes home, picks up her mail - a letter from a familiar address is in her box...she puts it away with all the others he sent her after she left for college. She never reads them...why should she? She already knows what they say, because it's been playing in her head constantly...("But the letters are unread, she's heard it on cassette.") Some dopey thing about how he loves her and misses her and wants her back, something cheesy like that. They never really broke up, but after graduation, they didn't see each other so much, and their relationship had never developed enough to withstand that separation - she's moved on already. But he hasn't. Letters, all the time, and she can never read them. She likes to think it's by choice, but, she's afraid that reading them will overwhelm her with thoughts about her past, and she needs to move on. Life for her needs to keep going, but for him, he's still running behind, trying to catch back up ("Passenger still...I'm running to catch up, to that old VW. They're leaning out the back..." In this case, the old VW van is a metaphor for life - she's still passenging leaving him in the dust.) He knows what she thinks about this, about how she's moved on from him and how he's still stuck on her. But, he also realizes that her moving on is cold and shallow, and that if she actually wants to get anywhere in life she can't forget about her past. (Taught to read and write at such an early age...[but] she's got books on tape.") Additionally, he points out her naivete; even though she's trying to be forward-thinking and mature, she's still making a huge mistake. ("You've never heard of fiction, you've never heard of fact.") Still, he's not much better where he is now, and he continues writing to her. But someday...something overcomes her and she opens the letter, as though her hands are moving for her and she's not even thinking to stop them. Unfolding it, she reads... "I'm writing to catch up." She is washed in a wave of nostalgia. How could she will herself to forget something like this? How they met, because their parents knew each other, and from then on they were best friends. How they'd explore roofs of houses intrepidly, fearlessly going through life hand in hand. Yes, he does want her back, but he's not going to beg her. Back when they separated, they were so naive ("We were small when we last met"). They're still both tenderfoots, but now, they're both wise enough to realize they had something special and now it's gone. As she nears the bottom of the page, "I'm running out of space, so let me sum this up for you. I'm only wishing well. Although you won't believe me, this coming Thursday evening is our centennial." Those words hit home, echoing all of his lost love, all of the things she tried to forget. No, she wouldn't have believed him before reading the letter, but only because she denied and contradicted him in an attempt to 'move on'. Now she realizes how much their relationship meant for both of them, and how she gave up on that. It's late now...it seems like almost a hundred years too late...but they will still celebrate, miles away, without even talking - to acknowledge what they had, and keep those memories alive.

The entire last stanza for me really stands out. The way the singer sings it feels like it's actually what he means: I'm only wishing well, I know you won't believe me but it's our anniversary next Thursday. When he sings "Centennial ~" and the music drops to that echo-y bit at the end, it gets me right there... An excellent song by an excellent band. The lyrics are the perfect combination of abstract and literal. Brilliant.