Finde Songtexte

Du kannst aus mehreren Filtern wählen, die Dir bei Deiner Suche helfen, den richtigen Titel zu finden. Jeder Songtext wird mit einer kurzen Zusammenfassung angezeigt.

#5134 Suchergebnisse

When I was in my early 20s, a friend of mine had this weird inclination to build a fort in our apartment. So, as grown men, we grabbed everything we could find and propped this thing up in the majority of our living room. When we weren't destroying the apartment, we would spend every night we could in the city. We had our spots like every does. We didn't know it, but in a matter of years some of us would be out of state, and none of our lives would look at all similar to that moment. Something about what we built together in our living room, and the network of places we enjoyed has always stuck with me. The places don't feel the same when I drive by them, but there's that sense of joy and longing that sit with me in that moment. This song is a farewell to a life stage I know better than to try to relive, a promise to be there for those who were with me at that time. This is personal of course, but I think we've all got a version of this. My best friend had me sing this for him and his wife on their wedding day and it's never meant more than it did in that moment.
A bank-robber tune, originally written as a waltz in 3/4. The song is a fun mix of familiar Bonnie-and-Clyde type imagery and morality tale, with the Biblical parable of the man who builds his house on the sand. The story is mostly for fun but packages the cinematic theme with a proverb of sorts.
In college my friend was dating this girl the somehow fit into our group as though she’d always been there. She’d cut his hair, patch clothing and be the first person to laugh if one of us fell on the ice. When she moved across the country and ended the relationship we all lost something. It was the first step in the exodus of friends that happens after college. I watched my friend quietly process his hurt. She buried hers in a positive exterior. I was too ignorant to see that at the time so I created my own internal narrative of her not caring as much. This song was processing. The metaphor was less veiled than I’d hoped and when I played it once I could see it wasn’t lost on her. We kept in touch but we’ve never spoken about the song. I’ve learned a great deal since then.
There’s an arrogance that I think we all carry in instinctively in feeling we have the fullest understanding of what is true and good. I have always been a curious on the rather tragic mentality behind some of the world's most violent leaders who would swear that all they ever wanted was peace and the happiness of their people. My own journey in learning from my self-righteousness led to this somewhat hyperbolic tune with a “Cask of Amontillado” nod.
I wrote this in my apartment in Minneapolis, one evening when I realized life didn't have me where I'd expected it would. I still thought "where" and "what" defined who I was, so I was left a little lost and wishing myself toward an idealized future where all uncertainty was behind me. The "place" of this could be subbed for wherever you were when you likely had the same feeling.