Saturday, December 13, 2014

Well, Your Hair's Still Red

No one ever tells you.  Maybe they don't even know.  The hard part is this... as you age, as you experience this place of never-ending happiness, as the wheel turns its relentless revolutions... it never gets easier.  The wheel may age and be replaced with new thoughts, but it never ceases to turn agonizingly routine cycles.  Round and round.. round and round.   

I am Henry the 8th, I am.  Henry the 8th I am, I am.  87th verse, same as the first.

What we once thought was exciting and opening becomes something we've seen and been hurt by or worse seen and been unimpressed by because it's something we saw ages ago and were either hurt or unimpressed by then.  It's the tragic irony of age. Another break-up, another apartment, another job, another album, another shitty album.  Blah... plans are for the young.

Sooooo... let's just go crazy.

When I feel disconnected, when I want to remember who I am... this song reminds me.  Grounds me into a place of rain wet streets, sideways glances, a heart of fearless steel, dancing feet of gold.

And it never gets old. 


Colin said...

Hello again :) No, it never gets old. I love the line in this song 'They worship just the same'. It's delivered in such a deadpan manner. Trying not to care, but caring deeply, really...

Genevieve said...

Hello to you too, dear cyber friend! I love that line and this companion, "Who told you you were a country girl?" It's inquisitive, charming, accusatory and almost derogatory. Perhaps your apt observation is why I adore this track so much, deadpan humor tickles my fancy. Coen Brothers anyone?

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