This is a sleepy, pretty little number that I dreamed up while snoozing on the subway. It is about the no-space/no-time we occupy in transit. Unlike most songs that I write about routine, I'm not trying to be overly critical here. More than offering a critique of the mundanity of modernity, I'm just trying to notice and acknowledge the back and forth, back and forth, back and forth rhythm that is inevitable in most people's lives. It's as easy to view it as a respite as it is to consider it a trap. It's a time of anticipation, and a time of reflection. It is about where you were and where you'll be, both in an immediate micro sense, and a reflective macro sense. It's the part of your day that you are most likely to erase from your memory, which lends it a sort of dreamlike impermanence. I'm trying to hold onto it long enough to consider it, because when I get home I will probably forget it all.
lyrics
I've only got so many words
To offer the silence
It used to be I'd summon the sound
And on the way home
I was orchestrating the masses
Like parting seas I spun them around
And I walked right through them
And ride away
And come home
Ride away
Come home
Ride away
Come home
And once I pass
Through yonder gate
And flash recognition
I feel the whole world melt away
And on my way up
I was scattering bricks from their mortar
Just put them back up yesterday
But I bust right through them
And ride away
And come home
Ride away
Come home
Ride away
Come home