This song, while its meaning likely different from my interpretation, seems to lay out the one consistent dilemma that I find myself in, and which usually gets me in trouble in the end.
I do feel as though it's a bit narcissistic to try and describe you're own life...
Remember when I really hated Emo-core in high school? If you do then you probably thought I was obnoxious (I'm sure that was the only reason). I've gotten pretty good about not hating things just to hate, but there is still something about this band that I just cannot tolerate. I don't know if its the whole get-up (i.e. the make up and clothes whatever). I just find it obnoxious. It's like Lady Gaga for me, I feel as though she'd be a great musician on her own without the uncooked turkey on her head. Call me shallow.
The music isn't that great to me either: It's just bland. Robert Smith's voice doesn't do it for me. If your band is going to be famous for a lead singer he should be like a Robert Plant and like a David Bowie if hes going to be this level of eccentric.
In the end I suppose it just boils down to preference. What I won't do now that I might have in the past is tell you that you suck for liking The Cure.
Burnt the wing...burnt it bad...
Dearest, dearest, Mr. J. How I've forgotten the solace you once brought my aching soul. My love for you has brought me back to the place of my younger years. Where I smoked cigarettes, and threw insults upon your ever beckoning and understanding binary ears.
I sit here now, marveling at the fact that you still exist.
I sit with greying temples, and a young offspring.
I set the sun in my aim, and flew too high. On my descent, I've made and done some beautiful things, and am shielding my face from the ground below. Hoping my arms will give themselves to cause of saving the rest of me.
I tell you when I reach the bottom, hopefully it'll be river that will swallow me whole. And I'll float to a better place.
I can only hope.
But, it's late. And you've got your life ahead of you starting now.
What makes me happy about Jack Johnson is simply that there is no underlying theme I have to take into account in his music. It's pretty straightforward, and who can really be unhappy when thinking about sex and pancakes?