by Justin Rosolino
About the song:
If I were asked to try and point out the single most consuming task of the human heart, I would have to say that it's the desperate search for a sense of identity. People have a need to find some center or still point around which their world can spin. Workaholism, vanity, perfectionism, insecurity, cruel mockery of others, even public generosity and "being nice" - a lot of times they're just visible symptoms of this desperate search. They're things that we choose to give us a sense of purpose and meaning. By the way: in case you haven't noticed, this is a pretty consistent theme in my music (see also Legacy, My Kinda Love, N.Y. Subway, and Beat It*). The ironic thing is that the desire to find dignity often results in the stripping away of our innate, God-given dignity. Case in point: I had a friend in school who was beautiful, talented, kind, bright - she was (and still is) a remarkable person. And yet she clung to men - regardless of how they treated her - as if they were the defining center of her life. They could take advantage of her or abandon her when she needed them most, but still she looked to them as her source of self-worth. It kinda frustrated me, but we all play this game in our own little way - my version may be a bit different, but it's still the same game.
* - oh yeah...I didn't write Beat It...so never mind that part.
Instrumentally speaking, this song is the result of an experiment/accident. I was messing around with using two capos on the neck - one to cover five strings and another to cover the sixth string a few frets down. I was also toying with different tunings that day, and I ended up with this bizarre tuning where the G string is tuned down a step to F, and the B string is up a half-step to C. Then I slapped the first capo on the 2nd fret (covering all 6 strings) and the second on the 6th fret (covering the A through high E strings). Weird...
He was the very earth she stood upon, catching glimpses of herself
through his distant eyes indifferent to her love.
With every whisper of dissatisfied affection he gave her,
how she all the more defined herself through him.
Hoping to be known, needing to be shown
that she's a life worth living and worth receiving.
She says, "Surely I can make him see
there's something real, somewhere deep in me,
and what I've never found alone he'll find for me."
But I can see a distant majesty in you;
The mirror shows the sorrow scars but not what's shining through.
Can't you see the difference in my point of view?
Under all you are there lies of whisper of what's true.
She sees the world through weary eyes of someone who's been left alone
far too many times, her half-hearted smile her only song.
And now and then she finds that discontented longing is her home.
She's the victim of an anguish self-imposed.
And on a throne it sits her beauty crowned for all the world to see,
casting shadows on the truth she's meant to be.
How she puts her faith in fleeting things -
like beauty that she wears,
like a garment that betrays true dignity.
And lady can't you see you're still the dearest child,
precious handiwork born from above.
And like the finest craftsmen He has fashioned you with patient care,
intending that you'd mirror heaven's love.