Like Bon Jovi, Roxette played a bigger part in the musical soundtrack of my youth than I realized. This one takes me back to regaling classmates to a study hall in the library. Nobody knew where any of us would end up – hell, some of us weren’t sure we’d make it out of study hall alive, much less high school itself. I never doubted the latter, and something in me knew that peaking in high school was an easy power-grab for lasting misery later in life. Perhaps that’s what made it bearable when it sucked.
In a timeWhere the sun descends aloneI ran a long, long way from homeTo find a heart that’s made of stone
I will tryI just need a little timeTo get your face right out of my mindTo see the world through different eyes
This morning’s flower post put me in a floral state of mind, so here’s another nod to the theme, populated by photos from a recent trip to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. Back in high school I had to hide my love for flowers and plants, like I had to hide so many other things – the essence of me, hidden and tamped down in the service of survival.
Every time I see you, oh, I try to hide awayBut when we meet, it seems I can’t let goEvery time you leave the roomI feel I’m fading like a flower
Tell me whyWhen I scream, there’s no replyWhen I reach out, there’s nothing to findWhen I sleep, I break down and cry (cry), yeah
Every time I see you, oh, I try to hide awayBut when we meet, it seems I can’t let go (can’t let go)Every time you leave the roomI feel I’m fading like a flower
As for those high school days, a shifting ambivalence exists when looking that far back in my life. It’s a burden I choose not to pick up tonight. Instead, I dive back into this song, and let it all fade away…
Fading like a roseFading like a rose
Beaten by the stormTalking to myselfGetting washed by the rainIt’s such a cold, cold townOh, it’s such a cold town
Every time I see you, oh, I try to hide awayBut when we meet, it seems I can’t let goEvery time you leave the roomI feel I’m fading like a flower
