This song seemingly tackles the methods of deception those who manipulate others use to get victims to follow their demands, as well as diverting attention away from important issues. They'll also use it as a means to convince people to hate or kill others by pretending acts of terrorism were committed by the enemy when the acts themselves were done by the masters of control to promote discrimination and hate. It also reinforces the idea that these manipulative forces operate in various locations, infiltrating everyday life without detection, and propagate any and everywhere.
In general, it highlights the danger of hidden agendas, manipulation, and distraction, serving as a critique of those who exploit chaos and confusion to control and gain power, depicting a cautionary tale against falling into their traps. It encourages us to question the narratives presented to us and remain vigilant against manipulation in various parts of society.
Your class, your caste, your country, sect, your name or your tribe
There's people always dying, trying to keep them alive
There are bodies decomposing in containers tonight
In an abandoned building where
A squatter's made a mural of a Mexican girl
With fifteen cans of spray paint in a chemical swirl
She's standing in the ashes at the end of the world
Four winds blowing through her hair
But when great Satan's gone, the whore of Babylon
She just can't sustain the pressure where it's placed
She caves
The Bible's blind, the Torah's deaf, the Qu'ran's mute
If you burn them all together, you get close to the truth still
They are pouring over Sanskrit on the ivy league moons
While shadows lengthen in the sun
Cast on a school of meditation built to soften the times
And hold us at the center while the spiral unwinds
It's knocking over fences, crossing property lines
Four winds, cry until it comes
And it's the sum of man
Slouching towards Bethlehem
A heart just can't contain all of that empty space
It breaks, it breaks, it breaks
Well, I went back to my rented Cadillac and company jet
Like a newly orphaned refugee, retracing my steps
All the way to Cassadaga to commune with the dead
They said, 'You'd better look alive.'
And I was off to old Dakota where a genocide sleeps
In the black hills, the bad lands, the calloused east
I buried my ballast, I made my peace
Heard four winds leveling the pines
But when great Satan's gone, the whore of Babylon
She just can't remain with all that outer space
She breaks, she breaks, she caves, she caves
There's people always dying, trying to keep them alive
There are bodies decomposing in containers tonight
In an abandoned building where
A squatter's made a mural of a Mexican girl
With fifteen cans of spray paint in a chemical swirl
She's standing in the ashes at the end of the world
Four winds blowing through her hair
But when great Satan's gone, the whore of Babylon
She just can't sustain the pressure where it's placed
She caves
The Bible's blind, the Torah's deaf, the Qu'ran's mute
If you burn them all together, you get close to the truth still
They are pouring over Sanskrit on the ivy league moons
While shadows lengthen in the sun
Cast on a school of meditation built to soften the times
And hold us at the center while the spiral unwinds
It's knocking over fences, crossing property lines
Four winds, cry until it comes
And it's the sum of man
Slouching towards Bethlehem
A heart just can't contain all of that empty space
It breaks, it breaks, it breaks
Well, I went back to my rented Cadillac and company jet
Like a newly orphaned refugee, retracing my steps
All the way to Cassadaga to commune with the dead
They said, 'You'd better look alive.'
And I was off to old Dakota where a genocide sleeps
In the black hills, the bad lands, the calloused east
I buried my ballast, I made my peace
Heard four winds leveling the pines
But when great Satan's gone, the whore of Babylon
She just can't remain with all that outer space
She breaks, she breaks, she caves, she caves
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Great version of a great song,
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Page
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There aren’t many things that’ll hurt more than giving love a chance against your better judgement only to have your heart crushed yet again. Ed Sheeran tells such a story on “Page.” On this track, he is devastated to have lost his lover and even more saddened by the feeling that he may never move on from this.
I just learned how to play this on guitar, but I'm still working on memorizing all the lyrics. To help me remember them and to attempt to understand what the song's all about, I'm going to break the lyrics down into sections and interpret what I think Conor Oberst means to say, working section by section.
Your class, your caste, your country, sect, your name or your tribe There's people always dying trying to keep them alive
(I think these two lines are an overall criticism of the human need for identity and the violence caused by the need to preserve these identities.)
There are bodies decomposing in containers tonight In an abandoned building where A squatter's made a mural of a Mexican girl With fifteen cans of spray paint in a chemical swirl She's standing in the ashes at the end of the world Four winds blowing through her hair
(This seems to be about a personal experience the Conor Oberst had, or perhaps it's a fiction he came up with. Either way it sets the Apocalyptic feel for the rest of the song.)
But when great Satan's gone, the whore of Babylon She just can't sustain the pressure where it's placed She caves
(This is section is a reference to Revelations, the last book in the Bible. In Revelations, there's a series of events that occur in hyper-metaphorical language and one of them is the downfall of the Whore of Babylon. What the Whore of Babylon is, is really up to you.)
The Bible's blind, the Torah's deaf, the Qur'an is mute If you burned them all together you'd be close to the truth ===>
(This is Conor Oberst speaking directly to the listener. Basically, that these religious texts have no value when it comes to seeking truth.)
==> still They're poring over Sanskrit under Ivy League moons While shadows lengthen in the sun
(Conor comments that although these religious books have no value as truth, people are still studying them in their original languages (ie. Sanskrit) at Ivy Leagues Universities, while the onset of a metaphorical night is upon them.)
Cast on a school of meditation built to soften the times
(I'm not entirely sure what the "school of meditation" is, but I would guess it is referring to those who are studying the "Sanskrit" at the "Ivy League moons". In my opinion, the line that the "school of meditation" is "built to soften the times" do so by keeping the ideologies of these religions out of conflict with one another.)