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.
I spent all last summer trying to figure out
Where I was headed next,
What I could still call mine.
And on the last day of July,
He stepped off the porch for one last time,
He wouldn't look at me instead,
He just sort of shrugged and waved goodbye.
On August first I packed the last box,
Shoved it in and slammed the door.
I took up North on 57, the way I did before.
And it keeps getting clearer.
A gentle reminder:
Nothing's changed.
The miles don't really matter,
Because there's no place far enough away.
Fall brought a familiar reputation,
After being so assured I could escape it
And so my first Chicago winter proved not much different from the rest.
Now I mark each new morning by whose bed I climbed out of last.
For every night spent at the bar when I told myself I didn't mind.
And now I know the wind is in, the cold is staying in the city this time.
And it keeps getting clearer.
A gentle reminder:
Nothing's changed.
The miles don't really matter,
Because there's no place far enough away.
It occurred to me last night,
While I was waiting for the train,
It's been since the sixth of last October
That I've kept my arms clean.
But if I thought this was starting over,
I should've known I'd be the same.
I should remember this is all I am,
This is all I'll ever be.
Where I was headed next,
What I could still call mine.
And on the last day of July,
He stepped off the porch for one last time,
He wouldn't look at me instead,
He just sort of shrugged and waved goodbye.
On August first I packed the last box,
Shoved it in and slammed the door.
I took up North on 57, the way I did before.
And it keeps getting clearer.
A gentle reminder:
Nothing's changed.
The miles don't really matter,
Because there's no place far enough away.
Fall brought a familiar reputation,
After being so assured I could escape it
And so my first Chicago winter proved not much different from the rest.
Now I mark each new morning by whose bed I climbed out of last.
For every night spent at the bar when I told myself I didn't mind.
And now I know the wind is in, the cold is staying in the city this time.
And it keeps getting clearer.
A gentle reminder:
Nothing's changed.
The miles don't really matter,
Because there's no place far enough away.
It occurred to me last night,
While I was waiting for the train,
It's been since the sixth of last October
That I've kept my arms clean.
But if I thought this was starting over,
I should've known I'd be the same.
I should remember this is all I am,
This is all I'll ever be.
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MAN! This was on a PROPS Road Fools vid, and they named it wrong! they said it was Detroit-lite, which is another cool Sarge song, but this is the one I was after! WOOO