What will I find?
Some sacred thing to help me handle the tragedy?
Or did I once—Did I have it and lose it?
( He's looking for a way to cope with the loss of someone or something. He's asking if one day he'll find something to make it better. Then, he goes back on his statement and asks himself if he had it and then lost it.)
No one should ever have to walk through the fire alone.
No one should ever have to brave that storm. No,
Everybody needs someone or something.
( Everyone needs that thing or person to keep them going. )
And when I sing, don’t I sing your name out
Right at the same time that I sing my own?
( He carries the decisions and mistakes of the other person as well his own. He bears the responsibility of both parties on himself.)
Some days I swear I can feel you splitting the light through the window frame.
The shapes it makes are always warmer, always brighter than the rest of what comes through.
( When he thinks about her or feels her presence, he's happy. If not happy, then less sad as he was before. What ever else goes on during the day, nothing compares to that feeling. )
Some days I swear I can hear you sing to me or whisper my name in the slightest way.
It’s like the warmest light now laid across my bedroom floor is somehow actually you and
Not just sunlight.
( He sometime imagines his love talk to him. It feels so real, that he no longer wants to perceive it as anything but authentic )
I have the memory climb down the balcony.
I put a flower on the back of its dress.
It’s probably best to forget it.
It’s probably best to let go.
I paint it the shade of where the skin and the lip meet,
Only a moment after breaking the kiss. And
I blur out everything else.
That’s how I choose to remember it.
( Remembering back to the past, he memorializes the good and decides to forget the bad. )
Some nights are a lot like the days, I lay awake too late, I watch the shadows casted
Trace your shape. Those silver slivers on the wall then on the bedsheets.
I hear your song in the trees. I finally fall into rest.
Often later when I’m sleeping you show up in my dreams.
Just doing simple things, like buying groceries.
And when I wake up I could swear you must’ve just left me
Like you got up to make breakfast or maybe just to get dressed.
( At night or in his dreams, he fantasizes about how it used to be. )
But the truth is, you were never there. You won’t ever be.
Sometimes I think I’m not either so what do I do
When every day still seems to start and end with you?
And you won’t ever know, you won’t ever see,
How much your ghost since then has been defining me.
( He's come to the realization that she was and will not be there. He's losing himself in perpetual thoughts of her. Since they're not close anymore, she's not there to witness the aftermath. He still does certain things in hopes that she's watching. )
I leave the memory up atop the balcony.
I tear this flower from the back of the dress.
It’s best this time, I bet, to just forget and let go.
Paint it the shade of where the lip bleeds and blur it out.
I blur out everything else, just blur out everything else.
And let go, and let go, and let go.
( Deciding to omit the past, he relives the bad and decides to forget the good, letting go. )
Everybody has to let go someday
Everybody has to let go.
( Everyone has something or someone they hold on to. Eventually, it'll have to go. )
I wonder when I will. I wonder.
( He thinks about when the time will come )
But if I still hear you singing in every city I meet
After I blur it all out, our every memory, if
You never fade with the days, your shape still haunting me then,
Should I not just sing along?
Should I not just sing along?
( If he can't forget, and the past comes back to haunt him, he's wonders what's the point. He's done everything possible to move on. If he can't let go, he's going to decide not to. )
I will sing sweetly hope that the notes change but
I do not need it to happen. I’m not resigned to it. And
If they never do I’ll sing your name in every line.
Just like I did throughout this. Just like I’ve always done.
In every gun, the empty church, and every tortured son.
In all those giving up. In all those giving in.
Until I die I will sing our names in unison.
( He hopes for change, but he's fine whether it happens or not. And if it doesn't, he'll still carry her in his heart. Throughout " Bottom of the River Between Vega and Altair and The Worth of the World " and " Wildlife ", he'll continue to relive his past. The line "In every gun, the empty church, and every tortured son." refers to the songs on the album. King Park, St Paul Missionary Baptist Church Blues, and Edward Benz, 27 times all told a story of tragedy. For all those who have quit or is about to he reminds them they're not alone. )
What will I find? Some sacred thing to help me handle the tragedy? Or did I once—Did I have it and lose it?
( He's looking for a way to cope with the loss of someone or something. He's asking if one day he'll find something to make it better. Then, he goes back on his statement and asks himself if he had it and then lost it.)
No one should ever have to walk through the fire alone. No one should ever have to brave that storm. No, Everybody needs someone or something.
( Everyone needs that thing or person to keep them going. )
And when I sing, don’t I sing your name out Right at the same time that I sing my own?
( He carries the decisions and mistakes of the other person as well his own. He bears the responsibility of both parties on himself.)
Some days I swear I can feel you splitting the light through the window frame. The shapes it makes are always warmer, always brighter than the rest of what comes through.
( When he thinks about her or feels her presence, he's happy. If not happy, then less sad as he was before. What ever else goes on during the day, nothing compares to that feeling. )
Some days I swear I can hear you sing to me or whisper my name in the slightest way. It’s like the warmest light now laid across my bedroom floor is somehow actually you and Not just sunlight.
( He sometime imagines his love talk to him. It feels so real, that he no longer wants to perceive it as anything but authentic )
I have the memory climb down the balcony. I put a flower on the back of its dress. It’s probably best to forget it. It’s probably best to let go. I paint it the shade of where the skin and the lip meet, Only a moment after breaking the kiss. And I blur out everything else. That’s how I choose to remember it.
( Remembering back to the past, he memorializes the good and decides to forget the bad. )
Some nights are a lot like the days, I lay awake too late, I watch the shadows casted Trace your shape. Those silver slivers on the wall then on the bedsheets. I hear your song in the trees. I finally fall into rest. Often later when I’m sleeping you show up in my dreams. Just doing simple things, like buying groceries. And when I wake up I could swear you must’ve just left me Like you got up to make breakfast or maybe just to get dressed.
( At night or in his dreams, he fantasizes about how it used to be. )
But the truth is, you were never there. You won’t ever be. Sometimes I think I’m not either so what do I do When every day still seems to start and end with you? And you won’t ever know, you won’t ever see, How much your ghost since then has been defining me.
( He's come to the realization that she was and will not be there. He's losing himself in perpetual thoughts of her. Since they're not close anymore, she's not there to witness the aftermath. He still does certain things in hopes that she's watching. )
I leave the memory up atop the balcony. I tear this flower from the back of the dress. It’s best this time, I bet, to just forget and let go. Paint it the shade of where the lip bleeds and blur it out. I blur out everything else, just blur out everything else. And let go, and let go, and let go.
( Deciding to omit the past, he relives the bad and decides to forget the good, letting go. )
Everybody has to let go someday Everybody has to let go.
( Everyone has something or someone they hold on to. Eventually, it'll have to go. )
I wonder when I will. I wonder.
( He thinks about when the time will come )
But if I still hear you singing in every city I meet After I blur it all out, our every memory, if You never fade with the days, your shape still haunting me then, Should I not just sing along? Should I not just sing along?
( If he can't forget, and the past comes back to haunt him, he's wonders what's the point. He's done everything possible to move on. If he can't let go, he's going to decide not to. )
I will sing sweetly hope that the notes change but I do not need it to happen. I’m not resigned to it. And If they never do I’ll sing your name in every line. Just like I did throughout this. Just like I’ve always done. In every gun, the empty church, and every tortured son. In all those giving up. In all those giving in. Until I die I will sing our names in unison.
( He hopes for change, but he's fine whether it happens or not. And if it doesn't, he'll still carry her in his heart. Throughout " Bottom of the River Between Vega and Altair and The Worth of the World " and " Wildlife ", he'll continue to relive his past. The line "In every gun, the empty church, and every tortured son." refers to the songs on the album. King Park, St Paul Missionary Baptist Church Blues, and Edward Benz, 27 times all told a story of tragedy. For all those who have quit or is about to he reminds them they're not alone. )
Until I die I will sing our names in unison.
( No one struggles alone. )