Hard one to figure: It reads like a letter: an epistle from (nearly) beyond the veil to someone who was once loved and has sinced caused pain.
(perhaps the recipient is partially to blame for this person's passing?)
In the ending:
"We each get what we deserve...My little...dove"
"Rest assured"
I sense a sinister facetiousness made all the more dark by the use of old terms of endearment.
Their wish is not good for the recipient of this plea, and the reader chides himself by calling his supplications and "Idiot Prayer". He's angry, but he knows his furor and intentions are whispers to the howling winds of life.
Nonetheless, he wonders (as he surely must!) what they might feel meeting again beyond words, beyond flesh, beyond life.
Typical Nick Cave fair, and bless him for it. I only wish he could chime in here and give some thoughts on all of our crazy interps. I know he'd dig seeing the variety of interpretations.
Hard one to figure: It reads like a letter: an epistle from (nearly) beyond the veil to someone who was once loved and has sinced caused pain.
(perhaps the recipient is partially to blame for this person's passing?)
In the ending: "We each get what we deserve...My little...dove" "Rest assured" I sense a sinister facetiousness made all the more dark by the use of old terms of endearment.
Their wish is not good for the recipient of this plea, and the reader chides himself by calling his supplications and "Idiot Prayer". He's angry, but he knows his furor and intentions are whispers to the howling winds of life.
Nonetheless, he wonders (as he surely must!) what they might feel meeting again beyond words, beyond flesh, beyond life.
Typical Nick Cave fair, and bless him for it. I only wish he could chime in here and give some thoughts on all of our crazy interps. I know he'd dig seeing the variety of interpretations.