Week 364 // Another Lament

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View Lyrics

It only lasts an instant
In an instant we’ll forget
We will paint the walls in brightest white
The earliest chance we get

We know not when
Or where we’ll be
Each moment seems the same

So every child is made to learn
Their life is but a flame
And it could go out

The stomach tied in knots
The hand that holds the gun
The echo heard for miles and miles
The silence when it’s done

We know not when
Or where we’ll be
Each moment seems the same

So every child is made to learn
Their life is but a flame
And it could go out

Notes
I live in a country numbed by the frequency of sudden and deadly mass shootings, with no willingness to even acknowledge the daily calamities that are deemed too insignificant to merit any mention at all. As I sit to write these track notes, I long for the poetic ambiguity afforded by songwriting. It is hard to describe with clarity how I feel. I don’t want our grief to be meaningless. I don’t want our horror to be mundane, but it’s too late for that. This most recent incident will fade in the fog of our limited attention. Then it will happen again, and again it will fade. We are wracked with an illness. What is worse is that we refuse to take our medicine. We prefer the panacea of collective amnesia. What is to become of us?

~M.E.

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