Hold my tongue as the pages fall
It’s a miracle
Someone could fill them at all
When I was a boy
Bore my fists in embarassment
A real American specimen
Wearing anger and calling it strength
Calling it nothing at all
Calling a car coming home
Calling it turning the page
Calling out through acres alone
Calling your name through the fog
Calling any name that I know
We’re still nearly two weeks away from the first day of autumn, and the weather is sure to lapse into late heatwaves even after the calendar page turns, but today felt like fall. Most folks around me complained of the slight chill and persistent rain. It wasn’t even the nice kind of fall day for which autumnists pine throughout the inferior seasons. It was just damp and moody. And I loved it. As such I tried to write something that sounded a little damp and moody.
Theres this thing I love about comic books. Perhaps you’re standing at the shelf wondering what to read, so you reach for something new and you flip through the pages, allowing impressions of the artwork throughout the book to lend you a feeling of the tone and style to be found within. You can’t really do this at a glance with traditional literature. Comics allow the reader to glimpse moments free of context, which inevitably formulate a rough concept of story beats and plot, however inaccurate that concept may be. That’s what I was trying to do with this song: flip through the pages and create decontextualized impressions. If it’s a trick that comics can do, I thought I’d try it with a song.