I recorded this song last Thursday and then set it aside. Listening back today, I’m interested in what I’m hearing, but I’m pretty fuzzy on what it’s trying to say. Some songs are written with such clear intention— a thesis, an argument, and a conclusion. Some have a defined personal arc, well-articulated tension, and satisfying resolution. Sometimes, the work is far more impressionistic, and that is the case here. There is a sense foreboding, contrasted by a feeling of calm. There are visions of catastrophe, but there are also impressions of personal spaces and intimate exchanges. Our societal anxieties inflect our quieter moments, and perhaps that’s what I was reaching for while writing this. That’s a subject I’ve gestured toward in the past, and one to which I suspect I will continue to return.
lyrics
I hear it then wait a while
The news is everywhere
The angels could overhear
They don’t mind
You could ask again
Scratching an itch
Oh the hurricane
Oh the forest fire
Soothing a thought again
Whoever wants to wait?
I’m a child with a dollar
The light on across the way
Always goes black again
Scratching an itch
Oh destruction
Reconstruction
Soothing a thought again