There are songs that I love for their lyrics, and sometimes more than the music itself.  There are many tunes by Sir Elton John where the lyrics are rich and vibrant, as well as The Moody Blues.  Pink Floyd is another.

Then there are songs where the music itself is absolutely amazing.  An Elton John song I can think of is Bennie and the Jets — without looking it up, can anyone really decipher what Sir Elton sings there in the middle of that?  But the passion he attacks the piano with is unmistakable.  Brilliant song.

There is a song I listened to from Tears For Fears that has stuck with me since it came up in rotation on my iPod.  Here it is:

Lyrics to Famous Last Words :
After the wash 
Before the fire 
I will decay 
Melt in your arms 
As the day hits the night 
We will sit by candlelight 
We will laugh 
We will sing 
When the saints go marching in 

A for a heart 
B for a brain 
Insects and grass 
Are all that remain 
When the light from above 
Burns a hole straight through out love 
We will laugh 
We will sing 
When the saints go marching in 
And we will carry war no more 

All our love and all of our pain 
Will be but a tune 
The Sun and the Moon 
the wind and the rain 
Hand in hand we’ll do and die 
Listening to the band that made us cry 
We’ll have nothing to lose 
We’ll have nothing to gain 
Just to stay in this real life situation 
For one last refrain 

As the day hits the night 
We will sit by candlelight 
We will laugh 
We will sing 
When the saints go marching in 
And we will carry war no more

 

I don’t know why, but it speaks to me on some level these days, a level deeper than I can comprehend.  It could be part of the “never can go home” scenario, because this song also reminds me of the summer of ‘89 and time I spent with my two best friends.  Nostalgia aside, it really does strike me as something powerful.

This is one of the lesser knowns, on an album that was mostly about the Beatles send up of Seeds of Love on the radio.  However, it will forever be one of my all time favorite complete albums — something that is more rare than now than ever before.  That is a rant for another day, as it turns to night, and we will sit by candlelight.  We will laugh, we will sing, when the saints go marching in.  And we will carry war, no more.