"When I die, when I die, I'll rot. But when I live, when I live, I'll give it all I've got. Well I have known you for just a little while. I feel I must be, wearing my welcome, I must be moving on. For my intentions, were good intentions, I could've loved you, I could've changed you. I wouldn't be so, I wouldn't feel so, consumed by selfish thoughts. I'm sorry if I seem self-effacing, consumed by selfish thoughts. It's only that, I love you deeply, it's all the love I've got." -Sufjan Stevens, from the song "Age of Adz"
I've heard this song for months. It's eclectic. It's beautiful. It's grungy-meets-ballad. And apocalyptic. Sort of post-love, post-human, post-break-up-esque. Post-so-many-things, really. Like the album of the same name, it's all over the place. A lovely noisy mess.
But I've never heard it like I did tonight. Every line hit me. It knocked me out-of-balance and I had to shake my head to make sure I was hearing the lyrics correctly. I now know exactly what the end of this song, "Age of Adz" is saying. I understand this place. I get it. I hear who Sufjan was crying out for (himself, perhaps, or maybe everyone who's had their heart broken so swiftly, so quickly).
"Well I have known you for just a little while," starts it all for me. It's the beginning of the impending end, it seems. A haunting little hint-of-a-sentence. It makes me cringe every time I hear Sufjan sing it. The opening line to the song. The way he feels like he knows the person. Before. "Before the earth was split in five." And yet, he knows it's ending. It's not going to last. It's almost over. And he feels it.
I think I feel it, too.