Including songs that I wrote before I started this project, I've written well over 300 songs in my life. I have no idea exactly how many; believe it or not, I didn't always count them. As a result, a strange thing happens sometimes when I'm writing. I often realize late in the process that I've written the song before. The lyric, or the music, or both call at me from my past, signaling that some kind of repetition is taking place. I have circumnavigated my creative lexicon once again, and arrived someplace that I've been before. This used to bother me quite a lot. I used to hold on to a notion that the purpose of each of these songs was to achieve some novel originality. I realize now that novelty is cheap. If an idea comes back, so be it. It must be that I have something else to say about it. I'm certain that this week's song is such a case, although I can't put my finger on what song this was the last time. Perhaps one of my more astute listeners will recognize it. As I wrote it, the sensation of cosmic repetition must have rubbed off on the lyrical content. I'm singing about cycles as I experience one. I suspect I will probably write this again some time.
lyrics
In the wake of everything
On the cusp of something else
Caught in the spell of anticipation
Over and over
It's the strangest time to be alive
And everyone's always talked like that
And everything always comes around
Over and over