The singer is driving the same old route she always does (“I’ve passed these pines ‘bout a million times”), but this time she saw an accident (“a break apart”). She couldn’t be objective didn’t appreciate the theater of life (“no sympathy for the beggar’s art”). It really made the reality of her mortality foremost in her conscious and now she’s afraid of death (“fear is what I feel a the slow unraveling of me”).
Someone tried to tell her that the dark thoughts would pass, but she knows that is wrong (“you tell me it’s temporary … don’t you think I know it’s in my mind”). She’s going to die but, just not when (“I’ll soon to be nothing but I don’t know when”).
The middle part is pretty cryptic. It seems she’s comparing herself to a domesticated animal who is just following the trail, the only way she can go. She’s trying to out run her constant thoughts of death and pretends she’s happy (“well the way I flee … a barn happy horse on a one-track course”). But sometimes she sees the futility and she hates herself because what was supposedly the “happy trail” only brought events that she regretted doing. She’s not done with her journey, though. She has a long way to go, but she’s unhappy (“the song is gone”) and she’s dead inside (“I blow empty in my cicada shell”).
So she thinks about how she can find her identity and retreats to the safety of the internal, but she’s still tied to her old way of thinking and doing. Every day is a battle (“It’s a daily grind”) to go on while she waits for what ever it is that will end her story (“’Till I hear that click that unlocks my fate.”)
So she just keeps going forward (It’s right over left”), and the only consolation is the end will come soon enough (“I’ll soon to be nothing but I don’t know when”).
The singer is driving the same old route she always does (“I’ve passed these pines ‘bout a million times”), but this time she saw an accident (“a break apart”). She couldn’t be objective didn’t appreciate the theater of life (“no sympathy for the beggar’s art”). It really made the reality of her mortality foremost in her conscious and now she’s afraid of death (“fear is what I feel a the slow unraveling of me”).
Someone tried to tell her that the dark thoughts would pass, but she knows that is wrong (“you tell me it’s temporary … don’t you think I know it’s in my mind”). She’s going to die but, just not when (“I’ll soon to be nothing but I don’t know when”).
The middle part is pretty cryptic. It seems she’s comparing herself to a domesticated animal who is just following the trail, the only way she can go. She’s trying to out run her constant thoughts of death and pretends she’s happy (“well the way I flee … a barn happy horse on a one-track course”). But sometimes she sees the futility and she hates herself because what was supposedly the “happy trail” only brought events that she regretted doing. She’s not done with her journey, though. She has a long way to go, but she’s unhappy (“the song is gone”) and she’s dead inside (“I blow empty in my cicada shell”).
So she thinks about how she can find her identity and retreats to the safety of the internal, but she’s still tied to her old way of thinking and doing. Every day is a battle (“It’s a daily grind”) to go on while she waits for what ever it is that will end her story (“’Till I hear that click that unlocks my fate.”)
So she just keeps going forward (It’s right over left”), and the only consolation is the end will come soon enough (“I’ll soon to be nothing but I don’t know when”).