Sometimes I cry for joy, hearing an old song that touches my heart. It happened just now.
I was toying around on www.pandora.com and I created a Sundays radio station. The first song? This one:
“Goodbye” by The Sundays
I vow that it’s goodbye and God bless.
Why did we have to assume we’re exactly the same?
Oh no, talking about yourself.
I could never be seen
falling down on my knees crawling.
Oh no, talk about a sell.
I vow that it’s goodbye to the old ways.
Those stories were a good read,
they were dumb as well.
As the heavens shudder baby,
I belong to you.
They said you get what you deserve and all they said was true.
So is this what it’s come to?
Am I cold or just a little bit warm?
Give me an easy life and a peaceful death.
I was astounded when I googled those lyrics. The song fills me with hope and bliss when I hear it, kindling fond memories of a heart bursting with real deep love. The lyrics are rather bitter and tortured, yet the incomparable voice of Harriet Wheeler melts my soul every time.
Art is a curious thing. The audience brings such sublime subjectivity to the activity. No matter what a musician, or a painter, or a writer puts out there – it always carries the potential for triggering transcendence. Quite often it makes me cry for joy. It happened just now. Listen to The Sundays and see if it happens for you.