But it says it is about becks grandfather. The thing that confused me was the interpretation of the line
"stink like colognes from a new-fangled waste land"
'
but the line "Stink like colognes from a new-fangled wasteland," using a little wordplay, might point the song towards Germany. Back in the '80s, Al Hansen opened an art school in Cologne, Germany.
'
This lyric to me has always been a metaphor for the popular world view of manhood, schmoozing personality projected from indiscriminate sex-drive, and how it is dreadful to go out and enjoy life at night and be surrouned by manifesters of this mass accepted illusion.
Another line "Gazing alone through sex-painted windows" is another metaphor or perhaps rhetorical statement of how evolving out of animalistic existence of fucking and carnal pleasure, looking for that "higher love" just puts you into a place where you are not with the program. Love has degnerated into sexual pleasure, fulfilling no one wholly. Dare to proclaim this and you are on the outside.
Which leads to the line:
Love is a plague in a mix-match parade
Where the castaways look so deranged
Where "love" is not love anymore, and coming to this realization makes you feel deranged in lieu of the constant messages hounded on society of what and how status is obtained.
I don't know who wrote this: http://www.whiskeyclone.net/ghost/songinfo.php?songID=319
But it says it is about becks grandfather. The thing that confused me was the interpretation of the line "stink like colognes from a new-fangled waste land"
' but the line "Stink like colognes from a new-fangled wasteland," using a little wordplay, might point the song towards Germany. Back in the '80s, Al Hansen opened an art school in Cologne, Germany. '
This lyric to me has always been a metaphor for the popular world view of manhood, schmoozing personality projected from indiscriminate sex-drive, and how it is dreadful to go out and enjoy life at night and be surrouned by manifesters of this mass accepted illusion.
Another line "Gazing alone through sex-painted windows" is another metaphor or perhaps rhetorical statement of how evolving out of animalistic existence of fucking and carnal pleasure, looking for that "higher love" just puts you into a place where you are not with the program. Love has degnerated into sexual pleasure, fulfilling no one wholly. Dare to proclaim this and you are on the outside.
Which leads to the line:
Love is a plague in a mix-match parade Where the castaways look so deranged
Where "love" is not love anymore, and coming to this realization makes you feel deranged in lieu of the constant messages hounded on society of what and how status is obtained.