Dan Hill walks through the life of a of a woman faced with the loss of her youth. She's been searching for understanding and acceptance all her life, yet she's been afraid to be vulnerable. The song gives us the Eros/Thanatos conflict, covered with a patina of pity.
14 today and you went dancing.
Music mixed with laughter
And boys can be so immature.
They made you drink a bit too much;
Everything’s a blur of feel and touch.
Did he really like you?
How can you be sure enough?
23 today and all your friends are getting married.
You say they’re so scared of being alone.
So self righteously you march though Teachers College,
Still so much in life you gotta get to know —
Seems like everybody’s so content to move so slow
And when you think you’ve got your life so well-controlled, it slips away.
And the years, like raindrops falling from your life, are washed away.
You’re so brilliant, you’re so gifted, so sensitive, so strong,
As you hide behind your barricade of words,
But no one got close enough to you to have ever heard
I met you at a party, you were drunk and full of world advice
And I was getting nervous.
You said you had a child who was a genius and you smiled
As the living room transformed into your circus.
Someone whispered you were 39 today, a face so young, eyes so old
You collapsed into the corner.
Like somebody of raw nerves you near seduced me with your verbs;
As I reached out for you, you said over and over:
When you think you’ve got your life so well-controlled, it slips away.
And the years, like raindrops falling from your life, are washed away.
You’re so brilliant, you’re so gifted, so tragic and so wrong,
As you hide behind your barricade of words,
But you know, no one got close enough to you to have ever heard
Children come home from school,
Shout and laugh with all their life.
Shut 'em out fast before you think of the past,
Turn out all your lights.
Go to bed, go to sleep, don’t think, don’t feel,
As the night time moans a prayer.
But maybe somewhere deep inside
There’s some meaning, aching to be shared
14 today and you were dancing.
Someone Like You
Adele
The bittersweet mixture of loss, memory, and hope for the future is fundamental for the elegy.
I heard that you’re settled down
That you found a girl and you’re married now.
I heard that your dreams came true.
Guess she gave you things I didn’t give to you.
Old friend, why are you so shy?
Ain’t like you to hold back or hide from the light.
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn’t stay away, I couldn’t fight it.
I had hoped you’d see my face and that you’d be reminded
That for me it isn’t over.
Never mind, I’ll find someone like you.
I wish nothing but the best for you too.
Don’t forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
“Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.”
You know how the time flies:
Only yesterday was the time of our lives.
We were born and raised
In a summer haze,
Bound by the surprise of our glory days
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited
But I couldn’t stay away, I couldn’t fight it.
I’d hoped you’d see my face and that you’d be reminded
That for me it isn’t over.
Never mind, I’ll find someone like you.
I wish nothing but the best for you too.
Don’t forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
“Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.”
Nothing compares,
No worries or cares,
Regrets and mistakes
They are memories made.
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?
Never mind, I’ll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you
Don’t forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
“Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.”
Never mind, I’ll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
Don’t forget me, I beg
I’ll remember you said,
“Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.”
All I Know
Art Garfunkel
Garfunkel mixes regret, loss, the frustration of love, and a thin thread of hope, then jumbles them all together to reflect the state of mind that grief and loss create for us and in us.
I bruise you, you bruise me
We both bruise too easily
Too easily to let it show
I love you, and that’s all I know
All my plans have fallen through
All my plans depend on you
Depend on you to help them grow
I love you, and that’s all I know
When the singer’s gone
Let the song go on...
But the ending always comes at last
Endings always come too fast
They come too fast, but they pass to slow
I love you, and that’s all I know
When the singer’s gone
Let the song go on
It’s a fine line between the darkness and the dawn
They say the darkest night
There’s a light beyond
But the ending always comes at last
Endings always come too fast
They come too fast, but they pass too slow
I love you, and that’s all I know
That’s all I know
That’s all I know
In The Winter
Janis Ian
Janis Ian mourns the loss of a relationship, and the ramifications of that loss. She's trying to put up a brave front, but is consumed by a profound sense of loss.
The days are okay
I watch the tv in the afternoon
If I get lonely
The sound of other voices
Other rooms are near to me
I’m not afraid
The operator
She tells the time
It’s good for a laugh
There’s always radio
And for a dime I can talk to God
Dial-a-prayer
Are you there?
Do you care?
Are you there?
And in the winter extra blankets for the cold
Fix the heater, getting old
I am wiser now, I know, but still as big a fool
Concerning you
I met your friend
She’s very nice what can I say?
It was an accident
I never dreamed we’d meet again this way
You’re looking well
I’m not afraid
You have a lovely home
Just like a picture
No, I live alone
I found it easier
You must remember how I never liked
The party life
Up all night
Lovely wife
You have a lovely wife
And in the winter extra blankets for the cold
Fix the heater, getting old
You are with her now, I know
I’ll live alone forever
Not together now
Copperline
James Taylor
This song laments the loss of the writer's childhood, along with its way of life. But there are glints of joy within it, as the memories are not melancholic, just wistful.
Even the old folks never knew
Why they call it like they do.
I was wondering since the age of two—
Down on Copperline.
Copperhead, Copper Beech,
Copper kettles sitting side by each,
Copper coil, cup o’ Georgia peach—
Down on Copperline.
Half a mile down to Morgan Creek,
Leaning heavy on the end of the week,
Hercules and a hog-nosed snake—
Down on Copperline,
We were down on Copperline.
One summer night on the Copperline
Slip away past supper time
Wood smoke and moonshine—
Down on Copperline.
One time I saw my daddy dance,
Watched him moving like a man in a trance;
He brought it back from the war in France—
Down onto Copperline.
Branch water and tomato wine,
Creosote and turpentine,
Sour mash and new moonshine—
Down on Copperline,
Down on Copperline.
First kiss ever I took
Like a page from a romance book
The sky opened and the earth shook—
Down on Copperline,
Down on Copperline.
Took a fall from a windy height
I only knew how to hold on tight
And pray for love enough to last all night—
Down on Copperline.
Day breaks and the boys wakes up,
And the dog barks and the birds sings,
And the sap rises and the angels sigh, yeah.
I tried to go back, as if I could;
All spec house and plywood.
Tore up and tore up good—
Down on Copperline.
It doesn’t come as a surprise to me;
It doesn’t touch my memory.
Man I’m lifting up and rising free—
Down on over Copperline.
Half a mile down to Morgan Creek,
I’m only living for the end of the week,
Hercules and a hog-nosed snake—
Down on Copperline, yeah.
Take me down on Copperline,
Oh, down on Copperline
Take me down on Copperline.
Эх, дороги! (Ekh Dorogi, or Oh, the Roads)
Anatoly Novikov and Lev Oshanin
Excuse the potato quality of the video, but the audio is worth it. This group of Georgia men sing an impromptu version of this soldier song. Even something painful can be missed.
Эх, дороги...
Oh, The Roads
Эх, дороги, пыль да туман,
Холода, тревоги да степной бурьян...
Знать не можешь доли своей,
Может, крылья сложишь посреди степей.
Oh, the roads, dust and hazy mist,
Anguish, cold, and worries, and the tall steppe weeds...
Not a soul knows what their fate is,
Perhaps you'll fold your wings in the midst of the steppes.
Вьётся пыль под сапогами степями, полями;
А кругом бушует пламя да пули свистят.
Dust swirls under boots, in the steppes, in the fields,
While all around flames roar and bullets whistle.
Эх, дороги, пыль да туман,
Холода, тревоги да степной бурьян...
Выстрел грянет, ворон кружит,
Твой дружок в бурьяне неживой лежит.
Oh, the roads, dust and hazy mist,
Anguish, cold, and worries, and the tall steppe weeds...
Burst of gunshot, circles of the crow,
In wild grass your friend lies dying.
А дорога дальше мчится, пылится, клубится;
А кругом земля дымится, чужая земля.
And the road keeps on winding, the dust keeps on swirling,
All around the land is smoking, this foreign land.
Эх, дороги, пыль да туман,
Холода, тревоги да степной бурьян...
Край сосновый, солнце встаёт,
У крыльца родного мать сыночка ждёт.
Oh, the roads, dust and hazy mist,
Anguish, cold, and worries, and the tall steppe weeds...
In this land of pine trees, the sun lights up the dawn,
On a native's front porch a mother waits for her son.
И бескрайними путями, степями, полями
Всё глядят вослед за нами родные глаза.
And along these unending pathways, these steppes, these fields,
The eyes of the natives watch and follow us.
Эх, дороги, пыль да туман,
Холода, тревоги да степной бурьян...
Снег ли ветер, вспомним, друзья,
Нам дороги эти позабыть нельзя.
Oh, the roads, dust and hazy mist,
Anguish, cold, and worries, and the tall steppe weeds...
Snow or wind don't matter; let us remember, friends,
We must not forget every one of these roads.
Martha
Tom Waits
The combination of Waits' voice, the deliberately out-of-tune piano, and the persona of an older man trying to recapture a love he lost is just heartbreaking.
Operator, number, please: it’s been so many years
Will she remember my old voice while I fight the tears?
Hello, hello there, is this Martha? this is old Tom Frost,
And I am calling long distance, don’t worry ‘bout the cost.
‘Cause it’s been forty years or more, now Martha please recall,
Meet me out for coffee, where we’ll talk about it all.
And those were the days of roses, poetry and prose
And Martha all I had was you and all you had was me.
There was no tomorrows, we’d packed away our sorrows
And we saved them for a rainy day.
And I feel so much older now, and you’re much older too,
How’s your husband? and how’s the kids? you know that I got married too?
Luck that you found someone to make you feel secure,
‘Cause we were all so young and foolish, now we are mature.
And those were the days of roses, poetry and prose
And Martha all I had was you and all you had was me.
There was no tomorrows, we’d packed away our sorrows
And we saved them for a rainy day.
And I was always so impulsive, I guess that I still am,
And all that really mattered then was that I was a man.
I guess that our being together was never meant to be.
And Martha, Martha, I love you can’t you see?
And those were the days of roses, poetry and prose
And Martha all I had was you and all you had was me.
There was no tomorrows, we’d packed away our sorrows
And we saved them for a rainy day.
And I remember quiet evenings trembling close to you...
No More “I Love You’s”
Annie Lennox
While the deliberately campy male ballerinas and Lennox's over-the-top performance in this video were shocking for their time (you should have seen this live on David Letterman—he was flabbergasted and speechless), the sentiment here is the loss of a person's ability to love, as both her history and the world itself have sapped her strength for it.
I used to be lunatic from the gracious days
I used to be woebegone and so restless nights
My aching heart would bleed for you to see
Oh but now...
(I don’t find myself bouncing home whistling buttonhole tunes to make me cry)
No more “I love you’s”
The language is leaving me
No more “I love you’s”
Changes are shifting outside the word
(The lover speaks about the monsters)
I used to have demons in my room at night
Desire, despair, desire... SOOO MANY MONSTERS!
Oh but now...
(I don’t find myself bouncing home whistling buttonhole tunes to make me cry)
No more “I love you’s”
The language is leaving me
No more “I love you’s”
The language is leaving me in silence
No more “I love you’s”
Changes are shifting outside the word
(They were being really crazy
They were on the come.
And you know what mummy?
Everybody was being really crazy.
Uh huh. The monsters are crazy.
There are monsters outside.)
No more “I love you’s”
The language is leaving me
No more “I love you’s”
The language is leaving me in silence
No more “I love you’s”
Changes are shifting outside the word
Outside the word
Nothing Compares 2 U
Sinead O’Connor (Prince)
Perhaps one of the most iconic videos about loss, the simplicity of the video itself, together with the unaffected directness of O'Connor's voice, gives this song a powerful impact.
It’s been seven hours and fifteen days
Since u took your love away
I go out every night and sleep all day
Since u took your love away
Since u been gone I can do whatever I want
I can see whomever I choose
I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant
But nothing
I said nothing can take away these blues
`Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares 2 u
It’s been so lonely without u here
Like a bird without a song
Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling
Tell me baby where did I go wrong
I could put my arms around every boy I see
But they’d only remind me of you
I went to the doctor and guess what he told me
Guess what he told me
He said, “Girl, you better try to have fun no matter what you do.”
But he’s a fool
`Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares 2 u
All the flowers that u planted, mama
In the back yard
All died when u went away
I know that living with u baby was sometimes hard
But I’m willing to give it another try
Nothing compares
Nothing compares 2 u
Nothing compares
Nothing compares 2 u
Nothing compares
Nothing compares 2 u
Lay Me Down
Sam Smith
The movement from a funeral to a wedding to an empty church is a brilliant video concept, but it's the movement from the deathbed to the wedding bed to the empty bed within the lyrics that adds not only emotion but real intellectual substance to this song and video.
Yes, I do, I believe
That one day I will be
Where I was right there
Right next to you
And it’s hard
The days just seem so dark
The moon and the stars
Are nothing without you
Your touch, your skin
Where do I begin?
No words can explain
The way I’m missing you
Deny this emptiness
This hole that I’m inside
These tears
They tell their own story
Told me not to cry when you were gone
But the feeling’s overwhelming, it’s much too strong
Can I lay by your side?
Next to you, you
And make sure you’re alright
I’ll take care of you
I don’t want to be here if I can’t be with you tonight
I’m reaching out to you
Can you hear my call?
This hurt that I’ve been through
I’m missing you, missing you like crazy
[This verse is only in the album version:]
You told me not to cry when you were gone
But the feeling’s overwhelming, it’s much too strong
Can I lay by your side?
Next to you, you
And make sure you’re alright
I’ll take care of you
I don’t want to be here if I can’t be with you tonight
Lay me down tonight
Lay me by your side
Lay me down tonight
Lay me by your side
Can I lay by your side?
Next to you
You
Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)
Don MacLean
This song about the painful life of Vincent van Gogh, couched in terms of his art, concentrates on van Gogh's attempts to educate and love humanity, who did not reciprocate his understanding and love.
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer’s day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life, as lovers often do
But I could’ve told you Vincent
This world was never meant for
One as beautiful as you
Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frame-less heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can’t forget
Like the strangers that you’ve met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they’re not listening still
Perhaps they never will
Time After Time
Cyndi Lauper
The leave-taking here, seen as a culmination of the writer's inability to be understood, although it's couched in a 1980s aesthetic, goes far deeper, presenting the timeless process of losing what you have to gain something more true to yourself. But the writer's commitment to nevertheless support the ones she is leaving comes from a place of internal strength. She's not running away from something; she's running to something greater.
Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you
Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new
Flashback, warm nights almost left behind
Suitcases of memories, time after...
Sometimes you picture me, I’m walking too far ahead
You’re calling to me, I can’t hear what you’ve said
Then you say, “Go slow”, I fall behind
The second hand unwinds
If you’re lost, you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall, I will catch you, I’ll be waiting
Time after time
If you’re lost, you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall, I will catch you, I’ll be waiting
Time after time
After my picture fades and darkness has turned to gray
Watching through windows, you’re wondering if I’m OK
Secrets stolen from deep inside
The drum beats out of time
If you’re lost, you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall, I will catch you, I’ll be waiting
Time after time
You said, “Go slow”, I fall behind
The second hand unwinds
If you’re lost, you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall, I will catch you, I’ll be waiting
Time after time
If you’re lost, you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall, I will catch you, I’ll be waiting
Time after time
Time after time
Time after time
Time after time
Time after time
Time after time
Time after time
Time after
Time after
Tom Traubert’s Blues
Tom Waits
Waits' voice hints at a lifetime of loss and longing, while his words combine Australia's best-known bush ballad (the title is Australian slang for travelling on foot with one's belongings in a "matilda," or bag, slung over one's back) with the many losses of an urban barfly.
Wasted and wounded, it ain’t what the moon did, I’ve got what I paid for now
See you tomorrow, hey Frank, can I borrow a couple of bucks from you
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You’ll go waltzing Mathilda with me
I’m an innocent victim of a blinded alley
And I’m tired of all these soldiers here
No one speaks English, and everything’s broken, and my Stacys are soaking wet
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You’ll go waltzing Mathilda with me
Now the dogs are barking and the taxi cab’s parking
A lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me, you tore my shirt open,
And I’m down on my knees tonight
Old Bushmill’s I staggered, you’d bury the dagger
In your silhouette window light go
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You’ll go waltzing Mathilda with me
Now I lost my Saint Christopher now that I’ve kissed her
And the one-armed bandit knows
And the maverick Chinamen, and the cold-blooded signs,
And the girls down by the strip-tease shows, go
Waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You’ll go waltzing Mathilda with me
No, I don’t want your sympathy, the fugitives say
That the streets aren’t for dreaming now
And manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories,
They want a piece of the action anyhow
Go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You’ll go waltzing Mathilda with me
And you can ask any sailor, and the keys from the jailor,
And the old men in wheelchairs know
And Mathilda’s the defendant, she killed about a hundred,
And she follows wherever you may go
Waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You’ll go waltzing Mathilda with me
And it’s a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace,
And a wound that will never heal
No prima donna, the perfume is on an
Old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
And goodnight to the street sweepers, the night watchmen flame keepers
And goodnight to Mathilda, too
Why
Annie Lennox
Lennox prepares a face to meet the faces that you meet, and again focuses on the dissolution of a relationship, and how difficult it is to be fully understood by another human. Literature gets us close, but in the end, our cores are incommunicable.
How many times do I have to try to tell you
That I’m sorry for the things I’ve done
But when I start to try to tell you
That’s when you have to tell me
Hey... this kind of trouble’s only just begun
I tell myself too many times
Why don’t you ever learn to keep your big mouth shut
That’s why it hurts so bad to hear the words
That keep on falling from your mouth
Falling from your mouth
Falling from your mouth
Tell me...
Why
Why
I may be mad
I may be blind
I may be viciously unkind
But I can still read what you’re thinking
And I’ve heard it said too many times
That you’d be better off
Besides...
Why can’t you see this boat is sinking
(this boat is sinking this boat is sinking)
Let’s go down to the water’s edge
And we can cast away those doubts
Some things are better left unsaid
But they still turn me inside out
Turning inside out turning inside out
Tell me...
Why
Tell me...
Why
This is the book I never read
These are the words I never said
This is the path I’ll never tread
These are the dreams I’ll dream instead
This is the joy that’s seldom spread
These are the tears...
The tears we shed
This is the fear
This is the dread
These are the contents of my head
And these are the years that we have spent
And this is what they represent
And this is how I feel
Do you know how I feel ?
‘cause i don’t think you know how I feel
I don’t think you know what I feel
I don’t think you know what I feel
You don’t know what I feel
The Enigma Variations, Variation #9 (Nimrod)
Edward Elgar
This performance is done by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Daniel Barenboim. It is in memory of Sir Georg Solti, principal conductor of the CSO from 1967 to 1991, who died in 1997. The sense of loss here is palpable, as this variation keeps on promising a glorious resolution, a cathartic culmination created by adding brass, then winds, then percussion to the simple yearning of the melodic line. But in the end, the great crescendo is pulled back; it never goes over the top to resolution, and we diminuendo back into our lives, where, although we have our hopes taken from us, we are always, as Milton tells us, "To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new."
Here's a vocal arrangment of the Nimrod Variation, set with one of the prayers from the traditional Requiem Mass.
Lux Aeterna
Eternal Light
Lux aeterna luceat eis, Domine,
Cum sanctis tuis in aeternum, quia pius es.
Requiem aeternam
dona eis, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat eis.
May light eternal shine upon them, O Lord,
With Your saints forever, for You are kind.
Eternal rest
give to them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them.