In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
It doesn't matter if we all die
Ambition in the back of a black car
In a high building there is so much to do
Going home time, a story on the radio
Something small falls out of your mouth and we laugh
A prayer for something better
A prayer for something better
Please love me, meet my mother
But the fear takes hold
Creeping up the stairs in the dark
Waiting for the death blow
Waiting for the death blow
Waiting for the death blow
Stroking your hair as the patriots are shot
Fighting for freedom on the television
Sharing the world with slaughtered pigs
Have we got everything? She struggles to get away
The pain and creeping feeling
Little black haired girl
Waiting for Saturday
The death of her father pushing her
Pushing her white face into the mirror
Aching inside me and turn me around
Just like the old days, just like the old days
Just like the old days
Just like the old days
Caressing an old man and painting a lifeless face
Just a piece of new meat in a clean room
The soldiers close in under a yellow moon
All shadows and deliverance
Under a black flag
A hundred years of blood
Crimson, the ribbon tightens 'round my throat
I open my mouth and my head bursts open
A sound like a tiger thrashing in the water
Thrashing in the water
Over and over
We die one after the other
Over and over
We die one after the other
One after the other, one after the other
One after the other, one after the other
It feels like a hundred years
A hundred years, a hundred years
A hundred years, a hundred years
Ambition in the back of a black car
In a high building there is so much to do
Going home time, a story on the radio
Something small falls out of your mouth and we laugh
A prayer for something better
A prayer for something better
Please love me, meet my mother
But the fear takes hold
Creeping up the stairs in the dark
Waiting for the death blow
Waiting for the death blow
Waiting for the death blow
Stroking your hair as the patriots are shot
Fighting for freedom on the television
Sharing the world with slaughtered pigs
Have we got everything? She struggles to get away
The pain and creeping feeling
Little black haired girl
Waiting for Saturday
The death of her father pushing her
Pushing her white face into the mirror
Aching inside me and turn me around
Just like the old days, just like the old days
Just like the old days
Just like the old days
Caressing an old man and painting a lifeless face
Just a piece of new meat in a clean room
The soldiers close in under a yellow moon
All shadows and deliverance
Under a black flag
A hundred years of blood
Crimson, the ribbon tightens 'round my throat
I open my mouth and my head bursts open
A sound like a tiger thrashing in the water
Thrashing in the water
Over and over
We die one after the other
Over and over
We die one after the other
One after the other, one after the other
One after the other, one after the other
It feels like a hundred years
A hundred years, a hundred years
A hundred years, a hundred years
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