This song strikes me as a lamentation that creation is a finite process and that when a piece is complete, it dies in a way. When a painter makes his last stroke, no matter how great the painting, the picture is simply behind him. Nothing to add, nothing to change, its fate is simply to exist.
This song strikes me as a lamentation that creation is a finite process and that when a piece is complete, it dies in a way. When a painter makes his last stroke, no matter how great the painting, the picture is simply behind him. Nothing to add, nothing to change, its fate is simply to exist.