https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZ7v9YBropc
All this way to connect
And all the way to the corner everyday
You were there for me
But will you wait for the one that disappear?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I was home when you came
It threw me out of touch
It took away from the cold of your arms
Now I wait for my turn to let it blow
Against me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Will you wait for the one that disappears?
Comments
The economy of words and beat reminds me of a tired, weary march, and would not allow me to let this song go. I was left, grasping at straws, seeing as how it tints the song with an expectation of loss, sadness, and tragedy.
It stems from the writer - Adam Granducie - beat crippling anxiety and isolation. If you have never suffered from crippling anxiety, count your blessings. I believe this song is in response to a bad bout with anxiety.
The person in the song with him came "All this way to connect" When the Adam does good to make it "All the way to the corner everyday" he writes "You were there for me." but then goes on "But will you wait for the one that disappears?"
Few understand what the clinically anxious are going through. If you've seen depictions of a dog so abused and scared that it gives up on 'fight or flight' and just freezes with its head in a corner even after the threat is passed.
The clinically anxious, like the abused dog, can't reason it's way out of the corners. The fear is crippling because they loose the ability to do some of the most basic and necessary things for living.
When he writes "But will you wait for the one that disappears?" He's recognizing that this person will soon give up on him too, eventually coming to the false conclusion that "He could do better if he wanted to." Disappearing (under this scenario) is the appropriate title. The narrator is disappearing in every way possible; mentally, physically, socially, emotionally, even financially. He is not seen and has given up hope of being seen.
The lyrics end a quarter way through the song. The beat wearily marches on like the passing of time. Guitars and harmonica wail in lament as the music slowly disappears down the road. Not really ending as much reaching the end of the horizon and fading into oblivion.
