the title lozenge of love is taken from a larkin poem called 'sad steps'...
Groping back to bed after a piss
I part thick curtains, and am startled by
The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.
Four o'clock: wedge-shadowed gardens lie
Under a cavernous, a wind-picked sky.
There's something laughable about this,
The way the moon dashes through clouds that blow
Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
(Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)
High and preposterous and separate -
Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
O wolves of memory! Immensements! No,
One shivers slightly, looking up there.
The hardness and the brightness and the plain
Far-reaching singleness of that wide stare
Is a reminder of the strength and pain
Of being young; that it can't come again,
But is for others undiminished somewhere.
..this makes me think maybe its about getting old and dying whilst the rest of the world carries on, 'I am gone, everybody's raging'.
i don't know if radiohead took the whole idea from larkin or just the line...
the title lozenge of love is taken from a larkin poem called 'sad steps'...
Groping back to bed after a piss I part thick curtains, and am startled by The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.
Four o'clock: wedge-shadowed gardens lie Under a cavernous, a wind-picked sky. There's something laughable about this,
The way the moon dashes through clouds that blow Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart (Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)
High and preposterous and separate - Lozenge of love! Medallion of art! O wolves of memory! Immensements! No,
One shivers slightly, looking up there. The hardness and the brightness and the plain Far-reaching singleness of that wide stare
Is a reminder of the strength and pain Of being young; that it can't come again, But is for others undiminished somewhere.
..this makes me think maybe its about getting old and dying whilst the rest of the world carries on, 'I am gone, everybody's raging'. i don't know if radiohead took the whole idea from larkin or just the line...