Lyric discussion by thehowlingfantods1320 

First--before anything--I have to say that this is an awesome song. Lyrically beautiful.

To me, then, the song is interestingly layered but overall about combating loneliness. Here me out: The first part (“I bought a grey macaw, named him Jules Verne / He’ll probably outlive me, he’s a bright bird / Keeps me company, I teach him new words”) seems to be about language. Or, more rather, the power language has to–at the very least–make us feel less lonely. First he names the bird Jules Verne, this is a reference to the author (of course) but also maybe to the idea that when you read books (be it Verne or Beckett or Bolaño) you’re somewhat communicating on some level with that author, or, to be less specific, at least with the ether of the author’s ideas. Secondly, he teaches the bird to speak, hinting toward language or communication again curing us of loneliness, or hinting toward an attempt to use language to cure loneliness.

Too, the hologram part seems like another strive at connection, but (now that I look at it again) it could actually be, interestingly enough, how the forming of a relationship (be it dating or simply friendship or whatever) has happened but the connection has either soured or not been there in the first place, or paradoxically the relationship itself being the driving force of loneliness in the speaker. Think about it, “The she melted down to her ankles / Turned into a million-watt candle / If I knew where she went, I would follow.” How could you not know where a million-watt candle went? Hyperbole aside, it’d be bright as shit. That makes me think that he’s lying to himself. That he doesn’t want to follow an unsatisfying connection if such a thing just leads to loneliness in the long run.

The line “Dreamt I was riding on a motorbike / Lion of Judah painted on the side” is, again, an attempt to battle loneliness, but in a different way. Where the human connection failed earlier, the speaker seems to be trying to find a connection in both a sociological aspect and a religious or spiritual aspect. References to the Lion of Judah can be found in Christianity, Judaism, and Rastafarian, and in all three the reference is toward a tribe of Judah. ‘Tribe’ connoting a sense of place, of belonging (which, then, would certainly lead to a destroyed sense of loneliness).

“I’m doing fine, I’m back in the Palisades” seems to be a last-ditch effort to essentially feel better, a retreat inside oneself. Traditionally a ‘palisade’ is (from the NOAD): “a fence of wooden stakes or iron railings fixed in the ground, forming an enclosure or defense.” However, the speaker uses the word as a proper noun and (with the definite article in front of it) is probably referring to (again from the NOAD) “a ridge of high basalt cliffs that line the western side of the Hudson River, in New Jersey and in New York, beginning across from New York City in New Jersey and extending north to Newburgh in New York.” You all more than likely know this and I’ve probably just insulted you by repeating it. I’m sorry. But, taken what the Palisades is and combining that with the definition of ‘palisade’ you get a sort of natural protective barrier, which I think is what the speaker is doing. Naturally (as in ‘doing what comes natural’ not ‘belonging to nature’) retreating inside himself. A sort of defense mode.

Still, although he feels comfort now, his attempt to connect, to battle loneliness is stunted. Life, for him, has turned into a series of motions. The “pastoral school play” part seems to simply refer to a bad attempt to romanticize his situation (in art [i.e. visual art] ‘pastoral’ often refers to a piece portraying country life in a romanticized form, and usually in literature or really every-day-speak, referring to something as a ‘school play’ connotes a tedious and ill-gained situation). “China shops and cold ivory towers” again refer to the speaker’s inability to make a connection. In this case, he is the ‘bull in the China shop,’ unable to form lasting, unbreakable relationships, forcing him to retreat to a safe (but lonely) ivory tower of sorts (again a retreat inside himself). “I and I make toast to the Caesars” to me simply means being virtually alone, or feeling virtually alone, for that matter.

Madeline I do think is a real person (or, at least, real to the speaker) and another connection attempt for him. But, I think both sides of the Madeline debate on here are essentially right. Like I said, I think she’s a real person, but I also think she’s a very spiritual person and someone the speaker is maybe jealous of. She’s found a way (a personal way) to make lasting connections and successfully battles loneliness, and the speaker knows this, wants this more than anything. The line “I know a diving bell when I hear it” I think refers to his attempt to connect to something the way she does. A diving bell (again [and I know you’re tired of this already] from the NOAD) is: “an open-bottomed chamber supplied with compressed air, in which a person can be let down under water.” But, traditionally diving bells were used as a sort of base or means of transport for a small number of divers, so, both the speaker and Madeline are going (via diving bell, if you will) “under the surface” of her religion or spirituality to attempt to form the aforementioned connection.

This, however, leads to sex (“Light to dark can shift in an instant / On all fours she’s just so insistent”), but whereas a sexual connection with a person would/could be (and is) such a good thing and amazing (possibly life changing) experience for the speaker, he however cannot connect with her, and the meaningless sex (where it may be good for some) simply reminds the speaker of horrible times (“Fills my mind with jump ropes and slit wrists”).

The final bit of the song (“Then I’m standing in that blinding light / Crooked crosses falling from the sky / Seen yeah seen by I and I”) seems to be another last-ditch effort by the speaker to stifle loneliness through personal experience.

All of this, of course, is up in the air. We all know that interpretation is 90% subjective. However, given that, this is just the way I see it. In fact, the entire album (to me) seems to be transitioning in and out of this overarching theme: combating loneliness. Finding something (be it religion, spirituality, humanity, et cetera et cetera) to get you through the day. And this song (in a very Nietzscheian sort of way) destroys all preconceived notions and paradigms in order to build up new, personal ones.

All in all, again, fucking amazing song.

I think if you were religious you'd understand the album better.

It's interesting that you determined that I was not religious from that. (That, by the way, wasn't being dickish. I really think that's sincerely interesting.) How so though? Like if I, say, weren't religious, what concepts would I not be getting?

I'm not convinced this song has an overarching theme of loneliness, although many of Oberst's lyrics certainly deal with the subject, in this song and others. I especially have a different take on the sex scene. I don't think the "light to dark" imagery necessarily translates to pure connection ruined by sex, but rather acceptance of the fleeting nature of all things (a theme I see throughout the album). "Feeling close but keeping my distance" might refer to the protagonist's former immature tendency to dive headfirst into anything that felt right and present hesitancy to do so,...

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