This song is my final entry for 2015. Rebecca and I are in New Hampshire visiting my parents for Christmas, which has afforded me a much appreciated opportunity to write and record music in the wooded serenity of their lakefront home. I recently celebrated five years doing this project, which means that 2015 was the fifth full calendar year of Mount Everest, and that this is my fifth year-end reflection. I'm not going to take a moment to revisit each of those other songs, but I'm certain they all have some themes in common. Like this song, I'm sure they all look to the future in their own way, while pondering where I've been. This year I'm using a rainy Sunday as an excuse to pause and take stock of how quickly the present gives way to the future. I'm writing about trying to keep up with the speed of change, which I believe to be a big part of our typical impulse to couple. We're seeking a constant; somebody on whom we can keep our focus when everything else becomes a blur. The first song of a new year often strikes an optimistic tone. I can't predict precisely what I'll share with you next week, so I suppose you'll have to come back in 2016 to find out. Please have a safe and joyous New Year celebration!
lyrics
On the radio all's gone gray
Cold static o'er the wave
And the mist spread o'er the lake
All the misspent hours it takes to know
What the rest of them already know
How the breadth and depth are wont to grow and grow
And all that we can do is see each other
And try to keep up
On the warmest winter day
Ground soft, hold fast to life
Air thick with the passing rain
Hands crack to cut the silence low
And the best of them already know
That the coming years will rend us to and fro
And all that we can do is know each other
And try to keep up
And try to keep up
I'm watching the rain
On a Sunday afternoon
And I'm counting my steps
Catching up to you
And I'm watching the rain
On a Sunday afternoon
And I'm counting my steps
Catching up to you
And I try to keep up
I try to keep up
I try to keep up
I try to keep up