This song is about sight. It begins by her proclamation that whatever the truth is, she will accept it. But alas, she is speaking to “you,” a lying son of a bitch who wants to bring her down. Her criticism is something more than whimsical angst, for from the beginning one is shown her visual idealization of life, with mouths breathing in lines pointed toward their honesty (or lack thereof) and being able to be captured. Additionally, she envisions air turning red after you breathe it in so that she will know you are lying.
But after the song’s interlude, in which strings begin and continue until the end of the second chorus to cut lines across the percussion-filled atmosphere, she admits that she desires you as a bloodhound chases after its prey. Instead of self-pitying with eyes closed (poor praying), she sees you, you who stand like her in a fiery landscape, plagued with (possibly hers as well) bleeding eardrums from “air tides” (generalized shifts in atmospheric pressure). The possibility that she likes all this burning and reddening and chasing arises and explains the synthetic bass notes that travel about stirring the musical atmosphere more and more like the drumming growing more urgent until nothing but one defiant piano chord remains.
This song is about sight. It begins by her proclamation that whatever the truth is, she will accept it. But alas, she is speaking to “you,” a lying son of a bitch who wants to bring her down. Her criticism is something more than whimsical angst, for from the beginning one is shown her visual idealization of life, with mouths breathing in lines pointed toward their honesty (or lack thereof) and being able to be captured. Additionally, she envisions air turning red after you breathe it in so that she will know you are lying.
But after the song’s interlude, in which strings begin and continue until the end of the second chorus to cut lines across the percussion-filled atmosphere, she admits that she desires you as a bloodhound chases after its prey. Instead of self-pitying with eyes closed (poor praying), she sees you, you who stand like her in a fiery landscape, plagued with (possibly hers as well) bleeding eardrums from “air tides” (generalized shifts in atmospheric pressure). The possibility that she likes all this burning and reddening and chasing arises and explains the synthetic bass notes that travel about stirring the musical atmosphere more and more like the drumming growing more urgent until nothing but one defiant piano chord remains.