You try to tell me that I'm clever

[fellmama]

While we're discussing songs, it occurs to me that the lyrics to "Such Great Heights" are more like actual poetry than the banal platitudes which serve most songs.

I am thinking it's a sign
that the freckles in our eyes
are mirror images, and when we kiss
they're perfectly aligned.
I have to speculate
that God himself did make
us into corresponding shapes
like puzzle pieces from the clay.
True, it may seem like a stretch,
but it's thoughts like this that catch
my troubled head when you're away
when I am missing you to death.
When you are out there on the road
for several weeks of shows,
and when you scan the radio,
I hope this song will guide you home.

They will see us waving from such great heights,
"Come down now," they'll say.
But everything looks perfect from far away,
"Come down now," but we'll stay.

I tried my best to leave
this all on your machine
but the persistent beat
it sounded thin upon this end.
And that frankly will not fly--
you will hear the shrillest highs
and lowest lows with the windows down,
when this is guiding you home.

Oh, I did not mention this regarding my car woes. Upon trying to go somewhere late on a rainy Sunday night, I put my key in the door and turned it. The key turned, the lock did not, and my hand came away with half a key. (The other half remaining in the lock.) Fortunately, pliers solved the problem the next day when it was sunny and not raining. But file it under "one damn thing after another."

Comments

[superquail.livejournal.com]

I agree. Sometimes I think the Postal Service version is too fast, but I always think the Iron and Wine version is too slow.