Songs are interesting little things. There is nothing else
that a human can create, share for a few fleeting minutes, and yet have such a
deep impact on someone for so long. Some songs bounce off the surface, disliked
by hostile ears; some are enjoyed; some are taken to heart. The point is, most
of the time, a song will do something to you.
But sometimes, now and then, you do something to the song.
Perhaps it’s the timing. Perhaps it’s a thought. There are many reasons. But
those certain, special times, a song will be flitting around at just the right
moment to be snared by a deep, complex web of emotion. But in the confusion of
feeling comes a new explosion of order, as the heart tingles of sensation turn
into keys. The words of the song aren’t quite ripped open, but the doors of
understanding are flung open and before you know it a thousand meanings of your
own flood into the vaults of the song, washing around the pillars of notes and
bars and staves and chords. The words crafted by some distant artist drip with
meaning, thoughts and meditations that only you can decipher, every single
lyric a poem that you yourself wrote. Every time you hear that song, you plunge
into those flooded chambers and bathe in the sensations. Sometimes you elate.
But sometimes you shy away from it, petrified of the place you will go if you
allow yourself to get washed along with the lyrics. Because the last thing you
want is to disappear into those rivers of memory and sensation, floating blind
in darkened tunnels towards that inexorable destination.
Because sometimes you’ll hear the voice of someone you sung
it with.
Every idea, no matter how little, deserves a go, I suppose
