Ancient Chord
Eternal Echoes: Unveiling Life's Melancholy Symphony
Lyrics
I know a woman
I am acquainted with a woman.
Who loves the idea of me
She is fond of the concept or image of me.
That's one way to get her home
Using that fondness as a way to bring her home.
That's no way to be.
However, that approach is not the right way to exist or live.
There are bands I don't wanna' play after
There are musical groups I don't want to perform after.
Some I don't wanna' play before
Similarly, there are some I don't want to perform before.
I've played in front of a small crowd
I have experience performing in front of small audiences.
I've played in front of a big old floor.
Also, I have performed in front of a large audience.
Maybe I don't need your wisdom anymore
Perhaps I no longer require your advice or guidance.
Just beyond my reach with all I'm searching for
What I'm seeking is just out of my grasp.
And the rhythm of my march on the drum of closing doors
The rhythm of my progression is accompanied by the sound of closing opportunities.
And it just sounds like the blues.
All of this just feels like the blues, a melancholic music genre.
I locked hands with Jesus
I had a close connection with Jesus.
Then I spit on Magic's shoes
Yet, I disrespected or disregarded the achievements of someone exceptional, symbolized by Magic.
I sang it from the hilltops
I proclaimed my message loudly from high places.
But it just came out the blues.
However, it ended up sounding like the blues, a reflection of sadness.
Baby, the road, she howls where she once roared
The journey, once fierce, now produces a mournful sound.
I'll be Ahab if your gonna' be that sureshore
Comparing oneself to Ahab, a character obsessed, in the context of a secure shore.
I'll drag whatever's left of us across the ancient chords
Willing to carry the remnants of the relationship over timeless melodies.
And it will sound like the blues.
Yet, it will still resonate as the blues, a reflection of the emotional struggle.
It's only natural that nothing stays in place
Change is inevitable, and nothing remains static.
The Moon needs her space so she slowly slips away And your old words of wisdom say, that tomorrow's another day.
Using the analogy of the Moon needing space to describe the gradual distancing in relationships. Tomorrow is seen as another chance, but it still feels like the blues.
But that just sounds like the blues.
Even though there's hope for another day, the overall sentiment remains melancholic, like the blues.
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