Is it weird to have a funeral song? I absolutely have a funeral song. This tune resonates through my body and soul, on a whole nother bizarre, beautiful level. The warm, marching bass just swallows me up every single time. Slow, somber, quivers reminiscent of some magical haunted daydream just fill me with wonder and delight.
Maybe it’s the smooth, youthful tones pitched from the singer’s cascading, honeyed voice. Perhaps it’s the band’s nostalgic hints of sweet adolescence, a time where we told stories to our minds and weaved dreams into our thoughts. I inhale deeply, imagining myself in a forest clearing. Smoky fog coats the atmosphere, lacing the arena with thick milky ambiance. I can feel something watching, seated atop a distant hill. A shadow figure, a reaper, quietly twisting fables in my mind. Yet the singer carries on, observing the figure but never engaging with it.
This song to me is a chronological history, dawn til demise of human lifespan. A comment on the internal struggle between reality and daydream. A beautiful unfurling of the wings of time, as slow and patient as they are cold and concise.
Anyway, I have a funeral song.
It represents all the beauty in my life.