I think much like another song “Anti-Matter” (that's also on the same album as this song), this one is also is inspired by a horrifying van crash the band experienced on Nov 3, 2022. This, much like the other track, sounds like it's an extension what they shared while huddled in the wreckage, as they helped frontman Garrett Russell stem the bleeding from his head wound while he was under the temporary effects of a concussion. The track speaks of where the mind goes at the most desperate & desolate of times, when it just about slips away to all but disconnect itself, and the aftermath.
One, two, one, two, three, four
Guess I needed some time to get away
I needed some peace of mind
Some peace of mind that'll stay
So I thumbed it down to sixth in L.A.
Maybe a Greyhound could be my way
Police and niggers, that's right
Get outta my way
Don't need to buy none of your
Gold chains today
Now don't need no bracelets
Clamped in front of my back
Just need my ticket, 'til then
Won't you cut me some slack
You're one in a million
Yeah that's what you are
You're one in a million babe
You're a shooting star
Maybe some day we'll see you
Before you make us cry
You know we tried to reach you
But you were much to high
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Immigrants and faggots
They make no sense to me
They come to our country
And think they'll do as they please
Like start some mini-Iran
Or spread some fucking disease
And they talk so many goddamn ways
It's all Greek to me
Well some say I'm lazy
And others say that's just me
Some say I'm crazy
I guess I'll always be
But it's been such a long time
Since I knew right from wrong
It's all the means to and end and
I keep it moving along
Hey, hey, hey, yeah
You're one in a million
You're a shooting star
You're one in a million babe
You know that you are
Maybe someday we'll see you
Before you make us cry
You know we tried to reach you
But you were much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Radicals and racists
Don't point your finger at me
I'm a small town white boy
Just tryin' to make ends meet
Don't need your religion
Don't watch that much TV
Just makin' my livin' baby
Well that's enough for me
You're one in a million
Yeah that's what you are
You're one in a million babe
You're a shooting star
Maybe some day we'll see you
Before you make us cry
You know we tried to reach you
But you were much too high
Much too high yeah, yeah, yeah
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high yeah, yeah, yeah
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Guess I needed some time to get away
I needed some peace of mind
Some peace of mind that'll stay
So I thumbed it down to sixth in L.A.
Maybe a Greyhound could be my way
Police and niggers, that's right
Get outta my way
Don't need to buy none of your
Gold chains today
Now don't need no bracelets
Clamped in front of my back
Just need my ticket, 'til then
Won't you cut me some slack
You're one in a million
Yeah that's what you are
You're one in a million babe
You're a shooting star
Maybe some day we'll see you
Before you make us cry
You know we tried to reach you
But you were much to high
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Immigrants and faggots
They make no sense to me
They come to our country
And think they'll do as they please
Like start some mini-Iran
Or spread some fucking disease
And they talk so many goddamn ways
It's all Greek to me
Well some say I'm lazy
And others say that's just me
Some say I'm crazy
I guess I'll always be
But it's been such a long time
Since I knew right from wrong
It's all the means to and end and
I keep it moving along
Hey, hey, hey, yeah
You're one in a million
You're a shooting star
You're one in a million babe
You know that you are
Maybe someday we'll see you
Before you make us cry
You know we tried to reach you
But you were much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Radicals and racists
Don't point your finger at me
I'm a small town white boy
Just tryin' to make ends meet
Don't need your religion
Don't watch that much TV
Just makin' my livin' baby
Well that's enough for me
You're one in a million
Yeah that's what you are
You're one in a million babe
You're a shooting star
Maybe some day we'll see you
Before you make us cry
You know we tried to reach you
But you were much too high
Much too high yeah, yeah, yeah
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high yeah, yeah, yeah
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
Much too high
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This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
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“I overthink and have trouble sleepin’ / All purpose gone and don’t have a reason / And there’s no doctor to stop this bleedin’ / So I left home and jumped in the deep end,” Ed Sheeran sings in verse one. He continues by adding that this person is feeling the weight of having disappointed his father and doesn’t have any friends to rely on in this difficult moment. In the second verse, Ed sings about the role of grief in his friend’s plight and his dwindling faith in prayer. “Saturday night is givin’ me a reason to rely on the strobe lights / The lifeline of a promise in a shot glass, and I’ll take that / If you’re givin’ out love from a plastic bag,” Ed sings on the chorus, as his friend turns to new vices in hopes of feeling better.
If you read Axl's explanation on the cover of GN'R Lies, he explains that the song is an over generalisation and gives all the reasons why he wrote it. It's very true to some extent: I've had Indian shop owners giving me the evil eye in their shops like I don't belong there when he doesn't even speak proper English. I haven't been hassled by the cops, but my bro and his mates were pulled up once by some punk cops who tried to hold just about anything they could against them. And I've never had a dark guy try and sell me stolen goods... but I've had a dark guy in Nike shoes and jacket with a Sony CD player ask me for money for the train saying he's broke. I can only assume those items were stolen. I don't have anything against the groups mentioned in this song, but yeah... I guess I see where Axl's coming from to some extent. Where I live, I can walk through the city streets and a black guy will call me a "white c", but when I retaliate with "fhead", I'm a racist all of a sudden and I have him and 20 of his mates beating the crap out of me. I feel sorry for Axl because he felt he needed to write that song.