"Mamma said, lift your head from the sieve of your hands.
Mamma said eventually this hurting will end.
But the shockwaves on my bones will linger,
Like the ghost of you here in my bed."
She's lost her lover and her mother, the wise advisor, is telling her that it gets better, but the memory of her lover still hurts.
"When I was lost you thought me a beautiful find.
Sometimes I think of you sleeping, so sleep for a while.
I find myself asking who'd do this to love,
And the white-shouldered mountains they pointed above."
She reminesces fondly of her lover. Those pleasant thoughts turn sour as she asks the general question we all ask when we're grieving, "Why?"
"Lord you just dropped me here by the side of this road.
Out here's too cold and I don't want to walk it alone.
I've got a bottle of your blood inside me,
And on old beggar's prayer on the tip of my tongue."
She's contemplating giving up, unable to comprehend how to move on without her love. That hole we fill in our lives when we lose someone. She's drinking and praying, as ways of coping with the grief.
"Mamma said, lift your head from the sieve of your hands.
Mamma said that eventually this hurting will end... "
After going through the process of grief, this is all that can be said and done. We lift our heads from the sieves of our hands. The hurting ends, we continue to live on.
This song is about processing grief.
"Mamma said, lift your head from the sieve of your hands. Mamma said eventually this hurting will end. But the shockwaves on my bones will linger, Like the ghost of you here in my bed."
She's lost her lover and her mother, the wise advisor, is telling her that it gets better, but the memory of her lover still hurts.
"When I was lost you thought me a beautiful find. Sometimes I think of you sleeping, so sleep for a while. I find myself asking who'd do this to love, And the white-shouldered mountains they pointed above."
She reminesces fondly of her lover. Those pleasant thoughts turn sour as she asks the general question we all ask when we're grieving, "Why?"
"Lord you just dropped me here by the side of this road. Out here's too cold and I don't want to walk it alone. I've got a bottle of your blood inside me, And on old beggar's prayer on the tip of my tongue."
She's contemplating giving up, unable to comprehend how to move on without her love. That hole we fill in our lives when we lose someone. She's drinking and praying, as ways of coping with the grief.
"Mamma said, lift your head from the sieve of your hands. Mamma said that eventually this hurting will end... "
After going through the process of grief, this is all that can be said and done. We lift our heads from the sieves of our hands. The hurting ends, we continue to live on.