"Is this about us?"
Drunkenly, you told me this was the song that you listened to.
(And, presumably, are still listening to when you think about me.)
I told you the feeling was mutual.
I told you I've missed you.
I started to tell you I still loved you, but I went to bed instead.
Two states away, we're both listening to what I've just learned has been our song.
Wild Horses.
Graceless lady you know who I am
You know I can't let you slide through my hands
Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away
You're an alcoholic now.
(You've admitted.)
I'm just as lost as ever.
You're lonely because you've never moved.
I'm lonely because I've never quit moving.
I asked you if I would ever grow up and settle down.
You said that I don't know how.
"But for right now that is totally Fucking fine."
No sweeping exits or offstage lines
Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind
Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away
I always dreamed that a boy would give me a song.
Why did it have to be this one?
It's the kind of song that demands a stiff drink; a heavy heart; and a convoluted, weathered, but genuine love.
I guess the song is played at funerals regularly.
It seems fitting.
Loss makes us sentimental, while separation makes us romanticize the self-destructive.
Faith has been broken, tears must be cried
Let's do some living after we die
Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them some day
Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Obviously, this is in reference to the brilliant song Wild Horses by
the Rolling Stones. The lyrics (in italics) are taken from this song. If you haven't heard it somehow, pour yourself something stiff and listen.
Also, many thanks to
etouffee for his help with this writeup.