Based on Florence + The Machine's "Dog Days Are Over"
The
rumbling below her stopped suddenly; she felt utterly still. Rising,
she glided toward the window with rouged cheeks and bright eyes.
Happiness hit her like her train on its tracks. Beyond the veiled glass,
a forest of ember colored oakes bathed in the sun, rising from behind
snow peaked mountains
She
ran across the cabin to her parents, sleeping beneath a scratchy
counterpain. She shook them violently, then more gently at their
protestations. “We’ve made it! We’ escaped!” She was jumping now, waking
her brothers and sisters with her joy. Her father waved his hand in a
placating gesture. “Sshhhh.” She groaned.
A
knock sounded from the reinforced door. The waking children ceased and
became the very element of silence. She backed up slowly toward the
window, but gasped as her heel toppled the boxes behind her. Sirens
blared. “Run!”
She
couldn’t remember the last time her heart beat so hard. Shimmering
shards of glass blew her to the ground, but she jumped to the girders
above her head. From her ledge she watched men in black and black and
yellow uniforms swarm below her. Breathing hard through her nose, her
eyes searched for the access hatch.
***
Once
more off the ground, she fell asleep. her head rested on autumn’s
leaves and tribal dreams. She couldn’t remember how long or how far
they had traveled, but the Horsemen always followed. They long ago
abandoned their horses, but their charging machines - with lightning in
their eyes and thunder in their hearts - were terrifying all the same.
Beyond
the ridge, her tribe rested, and her love waited. What tragedy, to be
held for him for so long, and longer still! But she had hope, and she
still dreamed. The bird in flight, the song in fermata, the train in its
tracks. She woke to the buzz of a drone floating through the branches
of the next tree. Move, she thought. Now!
A
bright blast blazed through her last branch as she jumped to her next
arboreal stepping stone. The drone buzzed an order: “Halt! You are an
enemy of the Party. You will be vaporized!”
She
hesitates as she surveys the surrounding trees. In her sleep the world
had changed from the emblazoned autumn eve to a cold and clouded winter
morning. She thought of the bird in flight, and before she knew it, she
was swinging from barren branch to barren branch. Electric furry
radiated anger behind her, but she kept on, humming bird songs. “Halt!
Halt!” A blast at her feet. Falling. “Never!” she responded, running
between the thinning trees. The horizon was not far off now; not so off
as it was from the train, or the station before that, or the burning
village from which she ran with adolescent haste.
Lost it,
she thinks. The snow of the mountain’s peak burns her bare feet. She
wonders why she should attempt to make even an ember of a fire if the
snow should burn her so. It would definitely be easier to lie in it’s
great white embrace. As the night fades she sees the village in the next
valley, lit like the stars clouded by the moon. Memories spark up at
the sight of it: the boy, the bounties, the proposals, the joy. She
slips into sleep again, but finds the memories transfigured by darkness;
the Iron Horses, the brutal men, the conquest with its flags and fires,
falling from the sky like rain...
The
going gets easy descending the peak. She rolls snow balls across the
fields and between the wild farrows. Anticipation rises in her grown
body as she retraces her steps on half remembered stones and retraces
faces on half forgotten neurons. She loses the iciness of the mountains
and falls into the swing of the mountain side’s beauty, bursting with
life.
A
fallen tree - two. A well and a windmill. The abandoned cabin by the
stream - finally! The Willow Marsh! She climbed the last boulder of her
trail to gaze on its vast settlement. She imagined she could see the
chief’s home at the edge of the lily covered lake, waiting for her
jubilant arrival.
But
what do you know? She could see it after all - with its slick tan tarps
and decorated walls. And her family was right there, waving frantically
to her in the distance.
She
suppressed a squeal and ran fast as the train that brought her so far.
She dreamt dreams for the future, for her plans and hopes.
She
didn’t see the drone dropping from the sky. It fell like a teardrop as
it whizzed toward the chief’s house. The Horsemen weren’t far behind.
Their stampede got caught up in the beat of her heart as she raced to
hug her father, her mother, her brothers and sisters. She fell into his
arms, and covered him in kisses until he fled to the God-man for his
blessing.
He
saw the horsemen first. They drove into the village, putrefying the air
with their exhaust and burning up the marsh with their hate. They ran
again, but they stumbled. At the edge of the marsh her mother gave her a
knowing look. “You can’t love and long if you want to survive.”
Song lyrics:
"Dog Days Are Over"
Happiness hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble she sank with her drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink
The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming
So you better run
Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father
Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind
You can't carry it with you if you want to survive
The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come
And I never wanted anything from you
Except everything you had and what was left after that too, oh
Happiness hit her like a bullet in the back
Struck from a great height by someone who should know better than that
The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come
Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father
Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind
You can't carry it with you if you want to survive
The feeling of nostalgia is often captures most accurately in music. In the case of “Apartment” (Young The Giant), and “The Old Apartment” (Bare Naked Ladies), nostalgia is caught in their respective filters of sadness and anger.
Both songs deal with the dark emotions surrounding buried memories in old apartments. They give a sense of defeat and mourning over failed relationships through their dejected imagery and somber diction. There is a resonance between the songs; in “Apartment” the narrator “hide[s] in a raincoat when things are falling apart,” and in “The Old Apartment” the narrator says there are “broken hearts and broken bones.” These two passages demonstrate the hurt one can feel when they’re displaced from familiarity through their respective use of figurative emotional and physical brokenness.
Noteworthy are the tonal difference between the two songs. “The Old Apartment” talks about the narrator’s anger, describing his emotions through his actions, as when he “tore the phone out of the wall.” Conversely, “Apartment” shows the narrator’s ‘exile’ from his apartment, and makes use of subtle symbolism of rain to indicate the end of an era. Where “The Old Apartment” expresses the narrator’s anger at his former partner, “Apartment” describes the narrator’s sadness that his relationship has ended.
“Apartment” and “The Old Apartment” share a room filled with painful memories and emotions. The narrators tell their stories and characterize themselves as sad or angry (respectively) by describing how they interact with and remember their old apartments. The old conflicts of their now ended relationships are palpable in their acts of leaving and breaking into these places of their past.
This is where the party ends I can't stand here listening to you And your racist friend I know politics bore you But I feel like a hypocrite talking to you And your racist friend It was the loveliest party that I've ever attended If anything was broken I'm sure it could be mended My head can't tolerate this bobbing and pretending Listen to some bullet-head and the madness that he's saying This is where the party ends I'll just sit here wondering how you Can stand by your racist friend I know politics bore you But I feel like a hypocrite talking to you You and your racist friend
This is where the party ends I can't stand here listening to you And your racist friend I know politics bore you But I feel like a hypocrite talking to you And your racist friend Out from the kitchen to the bedroom to the hallway Your friend apologizes, he could see it my way He let the contents of the bottle do the thinking Can't shake the devil's hand and say you're only kidding This is where the party ends
I can't stand here listening to you And your racist friend I know politics bore you But I feel like a hypocrite talking to you And your racist friend
picking up sound on the inner state
high in my breath
letting in waste
there will be time when the sleep I'm in
covers me cold
covers me thin
I know I wake up
forgetting which box this is in
how I will keep you
just how I left you
my daughter once told me I know a lot
now I'm strutting off with more than I've got
a hitchhiker told me I don't talk a lot
made me feel fine
made me quiet
if you had said it right
instead of praying to us why
how I will keep you
just how I left you
The basic principle of a story is that there is conflict going on between two opposing forces. In music, the singers tell their individual stories through their lyrics. I choose to make conflict my theme because I believe it is not something to be avoided, but something to be embraced as a part of a complete, meaningful story.
With this in mind, I chose to make my genre alternative music. Alternative music encompasses an eclectic group of artists and songs, which reflects my personal tastes. Alternative artists are not often well know or well established, and may include music from other genres (notably rock).
