America is in decay. Tom moves through it and describes it as he goes.
"I'm passing sleeping cities
Fading by degrees
And believing all I see to be so"
A lot of US cities have faded from past glory. To see them now is to believe the reality of the decay.
"I'm flyin' over backyards
Country homes and ranches
Watching life between the branches below."
He's in rural country ("country homes and ranches"), flyover country ("the branches below").
"And it's hard to say
Who you are these days
But you run on anyway
Don't you baby?"
"You" is America. The country has changed almost beyond recognition. But somehow it keeps running -- where to?
"You keep running for another place
To find that saving grace"
We have no idea where we're going. Nobody has any plans to fix things. We hope for a miracle -- a saving grace.
"I'm moving on alone
Over ground that no one owns
Past statues that atone for my sins
And there's a guard on every door
And a drink on every floor
Overflowing with a thousand amens"
As in so many of his songs, Tom feels alienated or alone ("moving on alone"). The "guard on every door" brings to mind the paranoia of a disintegrating social fabric -- a locked door, a guard dog, a man with a pistol who is eager to shoot home invaders. We take refuge in hedonism ("drink on every floor") or in prayer ("a thousand amens").
(As for the statues and all, haha I have no idea what that means. Something about America's past sins?)
"You're rolling up the carpet
Of your father's two-room mansion
No headroom for expansion no more
And there's a corner of the floor
They're telling you is yours
You're confident but not really sure"
We live in a time of increasing poverty, diminishing expectations. The oxymoron "two-room mansion" shows how ridiculous Americans are about our aspirations -- we're temporarily embarrassed millionaires. If your place is two rooms, it ain't a mansion! But that sad mansion is suddenly looking pretty good from the next generation's point of view -- the "father's two-room mansion" no longer has "headroom for expansion" and they're resigning us to "a corner of the floor". (Does "rolling up the carpet" refer to carpetbaggers, poor and desperate profiteers from the North who raided the South after the Civil War?)
Americans always bullshit about how they feel fine, even when life is caving in on them. Even if we aren't "really sure" about this whole situation and where it's leading, we pretend to be "confident".
America is in decay. Tom moves through it and describes it as he goes.
"I'm passing sleeping cities Fading by degrees And believing all I see to be so"
A lot of US cities have faded from past glory. To see them now is to believe the reality of the decay.
"I'm flyin' over backyards Country homes and ranches Watching life between the branches below."
He's in rural country ("country homes and ranches"), flyover country ("the branches below").
"And it's hard to say Who you are these days But you run on anyway Don't you baby?"
"You" is America. The country has changed almost beyond recognition. But somehow it keeps running -- where to?
"You keep running for another place To find that saving grace"
We have no idea where we're going. Nobody has any plans to fix things. We hope for a miracle -- a saving grace.
"I'm moving on alone Over ground that no one owns Past statues that atone for my sins And there's a guard on every door And a drink on every floor Overflowing with a thousand amens"
As in so many of his songs, Tom feels alienated or alone ("moving on alone"). The "guard on every door" brings to mind the paranoia of a disintegrating social fabric -- a locked door, a guard dog, a man with a pistol who is eager to shoot home invaders. We take refuge in hedonism ("drink on every floor") or in prayer ("a thousand amens").
(As for the statues and all, haha I have no idea what that means. Something about America's past sins?)
"You're rolling up the carpet Of your father's two-room mansion No headroom for expansion no more And there's a corner of the floor They're telling you is yours You're confident but not really sure"
We live in a time of increasing poverty, diminishing expectations. The oxymoron "two-room mansion" shows how ridiculous Americans are about our aspirations -- we're temporarily embarrassed millionaires. If your place is two rooms, it ain't a mansion! But that sad mansion is suddenly looking pretty good from the next generation's point of view -- the "father's two-room mansion" no longer has "headroom for expansion" and they're resigning us to "a corner of the floor". (Does "rolling up the carpet" refer to carpetbaggers, poor and desperate profiteers from the North who raided the South after the Civil War?)
Americans always bullshit about how they feel fine, even when life is caving in on them. Even if we aren't "really sure" about this whole situation and where it's leading, we pretend to be "confident".