Here’s the other song I wrote in the same hour as I and Love and One.
Once upon a time, the main guitar was acoustic the whole way through, but I replaced the verse passages with an electric as some finger squeaks were annoying me in the original. At this point, I’m not sure how much I care either way.1 At the time, I was trying to make an EP quickly without overdoing it (Along the Way goes with these two, with one more yet to come), but I have other ideas now and this version feels rougher than I’d like. But maybe you like that.
It’s funny sharing these warm and somewhat open-hearted songs — might have to get back to the cynicism next week.
I’ve once again left a slash (/) where I could never decide on an option.
And if the only way you'll smile is when I leave you for a night,
And if the only way your soul comes out is when we stop and fight,
The places that you walk and the books you always read
Are a mystery to me as much as fucking ancient Greek.
Maybe we'll come home again and feel a little free,
Sitting on the bed beneath our aging pothos tree,
Looking at my face like a colleague you just saw,
Getting on the train at platform 24.
We wait for love,
Look outside for love,
It lives in you,
And if you learn to listen you can love you, too.
She whispers in my ear like you said you never could,
And breaks my back with both her hands like I wished you always would,
Holds me like she knows she's dying and I'm her final touch,
Possessive individualism is nothing if not a rush.
It's easiest for me to cry when I know you're not outside,
I guess it's easier to live life looking on from the sidelines,
The more you give the more you get is the lie we're always told,
But without it, we'd be stuck confusing lyrics for a soul.
We wait for love,
Look outside for love,
It lives in you,
And if you learn to listen, you can love you, too.
Attachment's a desire that's heavier than touch,
Connections where we come from and how we feel the rush,
Oh I wish that I knew what to do or how to be alive,
But it's living that reminds us that it's living that's alive/divine.
A heart is not an anchor or a vessel for the soul,
It's a way of knowing what connects the fear of getting old,
To the life you live and the time you give,
With what little's loaned to you,
It puts the universe inside you,
And your mind out in the world.
We wait for love,
Look outside for love,
It lives in you,
And if you learn to listen you can love you, too.
I might dig out that version at some point, and I might re-record this one day with a different arrangement.