that horizon never came, no it never came.

I’m indulging today and allowing myself to listen to this regardless of my other plans which, if you’ve heard this song before, you know is quite a feat to take on. (especially when you have to be in public afterwards.)

I remember the first night I heard this song and it was one of those that left me feeling like there was no air left in the room. Never before had I heard something so emotionally raw to the point where it felt like someone was literally rubbing my insides with sandpaper and directing it straight to my heart. It hurt in that special way that even though tears were streaming down my face - there was a burning hopeful desire smack dab in the middle of my gut that left my entire body feeling like it was on fire.

This song isn’t for everyone, I get that. Even though if I had my way, it would be mandatory listening for everyone because at the core of it all - this song is for anyone who ever felt hopeless. When something happened where your faith (and I mean that in every sense of the word) was tested, and you don’t know how or if you’re going to come out the other side. And then there’s the anger, the frustration and the all-to-familiar loneliness because it seems like the one person that should be there, isn’t.

I could go on and on about this song for days, from the melancholy piano plucking to the raspy and gruff voice that is borderline howling and the lyrics - oh those lyrics. The picture these words paint is uncharacteristically beautiful (my favorite: “I’ll get eaten by the rust, you cremate and breathe the dust / and I’ll weaken your lungs / and I’ll bite off your tongue”) and not something that will leave your mind easily.

[post script: I truly favor the studio version of this song but this one from Bonnaroo is making me reconsider that.]