--
In an early version, the chorus was as follows:
I don’t know if I’m that strong,
to be somebody
to need someone.
It’s an interesting idea, that one might need sufficient strength to need something, or maybe to admit the need. It implies that the addressee, we, are in denial of our fragility, in denial of our aloneness, and our brokenness.
This idea raises questions not answered by the song. Where could the strength come from? How might such an admission resolve?
--
This masterpiece of a lyrical work does, though, say much more, even as it leaves those questions unanswered. Its central theme is tragic self-sabotage that emerges from the context of this denial. Nearly every stanza speaks to it, a cycle of despair and undermining one’s own hopes. The gambler is seeking the loss, although he only half knows it. The sailor knows the sea need not be an enemy; she is made one. We fear to win. We are afraid to speak our dreams out loud. [Words could scare the thoughts away.] Must they end before they begin? In his own magical way, Bono manages to accuse the listener even as he exhorts. Like the prophets of Old Testament, he's scolding and begging at the same time. He turns you into the addict wreaking havoc in solipsism and narrowness, or the ironist wearing a hazardous cynicism like armor.
The images of human-spun travail are interspersed with images of natural cycles of loss... broken waves, winters, and falling leaves. These are in the order of things. It frames the question powerfully -- Are we bound to fall as they are? This is all in the words folks, straightforward. Are we helpless against the tide?
--
Finally, there is the uncertain invitation to some kind of rebellion or courage. He nearly presents us a humanist’s version of Pascal’s wager. It is convincing because it is framed in the most personal of terms, a challenge to honor a bond to someone we love.
If you go….
If you go your way and I go mine,
Are we so…
The lyrics never condescend to grant us the “then” of that powerful “if / then” proposition. Do we need it, or might we already know the feel of that shipwreck.
-- In an early version, the chorus was as follows:
I don’t know if I’m that strong, to be somebody to need someone.
It’s an interesting idea, that one might need sufficient strength to need something, or maybe to admit the need. It implies that the addressee, we, are in denial of our fragility, in denial of our aloneness, and our brokenness.
This idea raises questions not answered by the song. Where could the strength come from? How might such an admission resolve?
-- This masterpiece of a lyrical work does, though, say much more, even as it leaves those questions unanswered. Its central theme is tragic self-sabotage that emerges from the context of this denial. Nearly every stanza speaks to it, a cycle of despair and undermining one’s own hopes. The gambler is seeking the loss, although he only half knows it. The sailor knows the sea need not be an enemy; she is made one. We fear to win. We are afraid to speak our dreams out loud. [Words could scare the thoughts away.] Must they end before they begin? In his own magical way, Bono manages to accuse the listener even as he exhorts. Like the prophets of Old Testament, he's scolding and begging at the same time. He turns you into the addict wreaking havoc in solipsism and narrowness, or the ironist wearing a hazardous cynicism like armor.
The images of human-spun travail are interspersed with images of natural cycles of loss... broken waves, winters, and falling leaves. These are in the order of things. It frames the question powerfully -- Are we bound to fall as they are? This is all in the words folks, straightforward. Are we helpless against the tide?
-- Finally, there is the uncertain invitation to some kind of rebellion or courage. He nearly presents us a humanist’s version of Pascal’s wager. It is convincing because it is framed in the most personal of terms, a challenge to honor a bond to someone we love.
If you go…. If you go your way and I go mine, Are we so…
The lyrics never condescend to grant us the “then” of that powerful “if / then” proposition. Do we need it, or might we already know the feel of that shipwreck.