I've put a lot of thought into the album, and I believe that the last four tracks (beginning with Lotus Flower, when the style of the album noticeably shifts) are meant to be taken together: as but flashes of a single redemptive journey. The tale feels like a very personal tale: the tale of Thom (a well-known dreamer and discontent of modern society; all its superficiality, banality, alienation) as he struggles to come to terms with society, and once again rediscover his love of mankind.
Here's the narrative, in detail, as I see it:
Lotus Flower: about his time among the “Lotus Eaters” — i.e. the superficial and befuddled masses. Begins the track by talking about his feelings of alienation and apathy with respect to them (“I will shape myself into your pocket // Invisible // Do what you want” —Followed By-- “I will shrink and I will disappear // I will slip into the groove and cut me off”)
But, a real artist is never truly cut off from society: yes, he necessarily becomes distant from mankind (“There's an empty space inside my heart...”); but only because he's compelled to reflect upon it; and help mankind transcend itself (...“and now I'll set you free”) and realize the beauty of the world that could be, if only they woke up one day and made the choice — “Just to see what if // Just to see what is...”
He became an artist to escape reality and banal consumer society: but keeps on coming back to it (“I can't kick your habit”); keeps on writing for the people's sake, “Just to fill your fast ballooning head”; keeps imploring them to “Listen to your heart”, and retreat with him into shared artistic sublime: “We will shrink and we'll be quiet as mice // And while the cat is away (i.e. the “prowl” of marketing and banal consumer culture) // Do what we want”. (Note that it's “we” now — he's lost the apathy of “Do what you want”; the Nirvana-esque “whatever, nevermind”.)
He ends the track by noting the madness of his task, that timeless desire to help society transcend itself through art (“I dance around the pit // The darkness is beneath”) — but ultimately reaffirms his conviction, repeating: “I can't kick your habit // Just to feed your fast ballooning head // Listen to your heart.”
Codex: The flipside of Lotus Flowers — for (although it's trite to say) one can never love mankind without first loving oneself. He affirms not only that it's OK to be who he is (“No one gets hurt // You've done nothing wrong”) and cause ripples in the “water” of society (“Jump off the end”): but more profoundly that he, that mankind, are fundamentally innocent. No original sin, no shameful human nature, nothing blameworthy looming over him. No need to seek external justifications for one's life, be it God or State or consumer products: for the beauty of and madness of life justifies itself. “The water's clear // And innocent”
Give Up the Ghost: Back to his experience as an artist. The background chant (alternating between “Don't hurt me” and “Don't haunt me”) represent the fears and insecurities looping always through his mind as he struggles, by being an artist, in his embrace of humanity. He resolves to gather in his arms “the lost and sold” and “the pitiful” — a feat that “while it seems impossible” he thinks he's “had his fill” of contempt and bitterness towards the pitiful masses. And, in a single profound moment, he realizes it's time to “give up the ghost”: as a cascade of “into your arms” begins. A second loop, falling into the embrace of a million arms, cascading into the “innocent” waters of the previous song, a loop able to overwhelming the initial fearful one (“Don't hurt/haunt me...“).
Separator: The conclusion and celebration of the journey just outlined. As his perspective shifts after giving up the Ghost, “It's like I'm falling out of bed // From a long, weary dream.” He is rediscovering what he loves in mankind (“The sweetest flowers and fruits hang from trees”) as he's “falling off the giant bird that's been carrying me” (the cold, detached, “birds-eye” perspective from which he's been looking down at and passing judgment without love.) There is no greater burden than being a judge, and now: “Finally I'm free of all the weight I've been carrying”
Albeit, he does admit that's he's still suffers from artistic detachment, in returning to Codex's water metaphor (“I'm a fish now // out of water”) — i.e. he'll always be better suited to looking from above into the water's reflection than to living truly in it: but now, at least, it's from the perspective of another fish — not a bird. He is one of them, and gazes into the innocent water with love, even if he'll never truly be able to join his contemporaries in it.
Finally, he concludes by assuring us that he'll keep up the good fight, despite it all: for, rather than being “just a number”: “I want to tip it over // And lay back under” — i.e. turn his callous and indifferent era on its head; and after the madness and violence of social upheaval is over, be able to re-enter its fold — innocent, eternally innocent. His concluding statement (“And if you think this is over // Then you're wrong”) is doubly powerful for being sung over a chant of “Wake me up, wake me up” — the timeless cries of a people, impoverished of body and soul, waiting for artists and visionaries to awaken them to the beauty of the world they have the potential to create.
Comments/critique of my interpretation much welcomed. Obvious DOT Pseudonym at-gmail-dot-com
I've put a lot of thought into the album, and I believe that the last four tracks (beginning with Lotus Flower, when the style of the album noticeably shifts) are meant to be taken together: as but flashes of a single redemptive journey. The tale feels like a very personal tale: the tale of Thom (a well-known dreamer and discontent of modern society; all its superficiality, banality, alienation) as he struggles to come to terms with society, and once again rediscover his love of mankind.
Here's the narrative, in detail, as I see it:
Lotus Flower: about his time among the “Lotus Eaters” — i.e. the superficial and befuddled masses. Begins the track by talking about his feelings of alienation and apathy with respect to them (“I will shape myself into your pocket // Invisible // Do what you want” —Followed By-- “I will shrink and I will disappear // I will slip into the groove and cut me off”)
But, a real artist is never truly cut off from society: yes, he necessarily becomes distant from mankind (“There's an empty space inside my heart...”); but only because he's compelled to reflect upon it; and help mankind transcend itself (...“and now I'll set you free”) and realize the beauty of the world that could be, if only they woke up one day and made the choice — “Just to see what if // Just to see what is...”
He became an artist to escape reality and banal consumer society: but keeps on coming back to it (“I can't kick your habit”); keeps on writing for the people's sake, “Just to fill your fast ballooning head”; keeps imploring them to “Listen to your heart”, and retreat with him into shared artistic sublime: “We will shrink and we'll be quiet as mice // And while the cat is away (i.e. the “prowl” of marketing and banal consumer culture) // Do what we want”. (Note that it's “we” now — he's lost the apathy of “Do what you want”; the Nirvana-esque “whatever, nevermind”.)
He ends the track by noting the madness of his task, that timeless desire to help society transcend itself through art (“I dance around the pit // The darkness is beneath”) — but ultimately reaffirms his conviction, repeating: “I can't kick your habit // Just to feed your fast ballooning head // Listen to your heart.”
Codex: The flipside of Lotus Flowers — for (although it's trite to say) one can never love mankind without first loving oneself. He affirms not only that it's OK to be who he is (“No one gets hurt // You've done nothing wrong”) and cause ripples in the “water” of society (“Jump off the end”): but more profoundly that he, that mankind, are fundamentally innocent. No original sin, no shameful human nature, nothing blameworthy looming over him. No need to seek external justifications for one's life, be it God or State or consumer products: for the beauty of and madness of life justifies itself. “The water's clear // And innocent”
Give Up the Ghost: Back to his experience as an artist. The background chant (alternating between “Don't hurt me” and “Don't haunt me”) represent the fears and insecurities looping always through his mind as he struggles, by being an artist, in his embrace of humanity. He resolves to gather in his arms “the lost and sold” and “the pitiful” — a feat that “while it seems impossible” he thinks he's “had his fill” of contempt and bitterness towards the pitiful masses. And, in a single profound moment, he realizes it's time to “give up the ghost”: as a cascade of “into your arms” begins. A second loop, falling into the embrace of a million arms, cascading into the “innocent” waters of the previous song, a loop able to overwhelming the initial fearful one (“Don't hurt/haunt me...“).
Separator: The conclusion and celebration of the journey just outlined. As his perspective shifts after giving up the Ghost, “It's like I'm falling out of bed // From a long, weary dream.” He is rediscovering what he loves in mankind (“The sweetest flowers and fruits hang from trees”) as he's “falling off the giant bird that's been carrying me” (the cold, detached, “birds-eye” perspective from which he's been looking down at and passing judgment without love.) There is no greater burden than being a judge, and now: “Finally I'm free of all the weight I've been carrying”
Albeit, he does admit that's he's still suffers from artistic detachment, in returning to Codex's water metaphor (“I'm a fish now // out of water”) — i.e. he'll always be better suited to looking from above into the water's reflection than to living truly in it: but now, at least, it's from the perspective of another fish — not a bird. He is one of them, and gazes into the innocent water with love, even if he'll never truly be able to join his contemporaries in it.
Finally, he concludes by assuring us that he'll keep up the good fight, despite it all: for, rather than being “just a number”: “I want to tip it over // And lay back under” — i.e. turn his callous and indifferent era on its head; and after the madness and violence of social upheaval is over, be able to re-enter its fold — innocent, eternally innocent. His concluding statement (“And if you think this is over // Then you're wrong”) is doubly powerful for being sung over a chant of “Wake me up, wake me up” — the timeless cries of a people, impoverished of body and soul, waiting for artists and visionaries to awaken them to the beauty of the world they have the potential to create.
Comments/critique of my interpretation much welcomed. Obvious DOT Pseudonym at-gmail-dot-com