Sunday, April 28, 2013

Colibri

His goal in life was to be an echo
Riding alone, town after town, toll after toll 
A fixed bayonet through the great southwest to forget her

She appears in his dreams
But in his car and in his arms
A dream can mean anything
A cheap sunset on a television set can upset her
But he never could

Remember to remember me
Standing still in your past
Floating fast like a hummingbird

His goal in life was to be an echo
The type of sound that floats around and then back down
Like a feather
But in the deep chrome canyons of the loudest Manhattans
No one could hear him
Or anything

So he slept on a mountain
In a sleeping bag underneath the stars
He would lie awake and count them
And the gray fountain spray of the great Milky Way
Would never let him
Die alone

Remember to remember me
Standing still in your past
Floating fast like a hummingbird
Remember to remember me
Standing still in your past
Floating fast like a hummingbird

A hummingbird
A hummingbird

This trip I saw numerous hummingbirds... hummingbirds of all sizes.
Each time I'd catch myself staring at these delicate creatures, this Wilco song would play in the back of my mind.
Remember to remember me, standing still in your past, floating fast like a hummingbird.
I quickly turned into that weird girl who'd get teary-eyed at the sight of hummingbirds. My tiny companions stopped pointing the birds out to me, that's how sad things would get.
His goal in life was to be an echo-- the type of sound that floats around and then back down, like a feather.
Walking into the grocery store, walking out of a park... there they'd be-- pretty birds with quick-flapping wings, creating the illusion of floating in thin air. Float, float, float, completely unafraid of the humans walking near them.

The song may be about in the point of view of a man... but I've never felt more identified.
And the gray fountain spray of the great Milky Way would never let her... die alone.

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