i can't sleep. i haven't gone through a whole album in a while. this is the result.
i wish i could convey in words the way that parts of this record make me feel, but that is obviously impossible. i was never really a death cab fan, but narrow stairs made me a believer again. that and the fact that ben gibbard thoroughly surprised me when i finally gave in and saw him live a few weeks ago.
and the silence; it became so very clear
that you had long ago disappeared.
i cursed myself for being surprised
that this didn't play like it did in my mind.
. . .and it's hard to want to stay awake
when everyone you need, they all seem to be asleep.
and you wonder if you missed your dream.
you just can't see a dream.
. . .and then it started getting dark.
i trudged back to where the car was parked
no closer to any kind of truth
---
how i wish you could see the potential,
the potential of you and me.
it's like a book elegantly bound but,
in a language that you can't read.
[note, i love this whole song...but it does kind across as kind of creepy, so i'll skip the rest]
---
with every year that came to pass
more clouds appear until the sky went black
and now there's
no sunlight, no sunlight
. . .you disappeared with the same speed
the idealistic things i believed
the optimist died inside of me
---
and soon everybody will ask what became of you
and your heart was dying fast, and you didn't know what to do
cath, it seems that you live in someone else's dream
. . .where the things that could have been are oppressed
---
the longer you think, the less you know what to do.
---
i've been slipping through the years
my old clothes don't fit like they once did
so they hang like ghosts
of the people i've been
---
the firemen worked in double shifts,
with prayers of rain on their lips
and they knew it was only a matter of time.
---
you look so defeated lying there in your new twin size bed.
with a single pillow underneath your single head.
. . .you used to think that someone would come along.
and lay beside you in a space that they belong.
but the other side of the mattress and box springs stayed like new.
what's the point of holding onto what never gets used?
other than a sick desire for self-abuse.
---
his head was a city of paper buildings
and the echoes that remained.
of old friends and lovers,
their features bleeding together in his brain.
once it starts, it's harder to tell them apart.
. . .and they carried on like long division
'cause it was clear with every page.
oh, that they were further away
from the solution that would play
---
with no words, a clean escape, no promises or messes made
and chops it all up to mistake, mistake, mistake
. . .a storm at sea the bow cracked and i was capsizing
and i sunk below where i swore i would never go
---
we're not the same, dear, as we used to be.
the seasons have changed and so have we.
there was little we could say, and even less that we could do
to stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you.
that you had long ago disappeared.
i cursed myself for being surprised
that this didn't play like it did in my mind.
. . .and it's hard to want to stay awake
when everyone you need, they all seem to be asleep.
and you wonder if you missed your dream.
you just can't see a dream.
. . .and then it started getting dark.
i trudged back to where the car was parked
no closer to any kind of truth
---
how i wish you could see the potential,
the potential of you and me.
it's like a book elegantly bound but,
in a language that you can't read.
[note, i love this whole song...but it does kind across as kind of creepy, so i'll skip the rest]
---
with every year that came to pass
more clouds appear until the sky went black
and now there's
no sunlight, no sunlight
. . .you disappeared with the same speed
the idealistic things i believed
the optimist died inside of me
---
and soon everybody will ask what became of you
and your heart was dying fast, and you didn't know what to do
cath, it seems that you live in someone else's dream
. . .where the things that could have been are oppressed
---
the longer you think, the less you know what to do.
---
i've been slipping through the years
my old clothes don't fit like they once did
so they hang like ghosts
of the people i've been
---
the firemen worked in double shifts,
with prayers of rain on their lips
and they knew it was only a matter of time.
---
you look so defeated lying there in your new twin size bed.
with a single pillow underneath your single head.
. . .you used to think that someone would come along.
and lay beside you in a space that they belong.
but the other side of the mattress and box springs stayed like new.
what's the point of holding onto what never gets used?
other than a sick desire for self-abuse.
---
his head was a city of paper buildings
and the echoes that remained.
of old friends and lovers,
their features bleeding together in his brain.
once it starts, it's harder to tell them apart.
. . .and they carried on like long division
'cause it was clear with every page.
oh, that they were further away
from the solution that would play
---
with no words, a clean escape, no promises or messes made
and chops it all up to mistake, mistake, mistake
. . .a storm at sea the bow cracked and i was capsizing
and i sunk below where i swore i would never go
---
we're not the same, dear, as we used to be.
the seasons have changed and so have we.
there was little we could say, and even less that we could do
to stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you.
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