Without a Sound (Eleanor) by the New Amsterdams
decoded and related to the real life of Jen
Your lawyer can go to hell.
I hate lawyers anyway, so how fitting. I'm convinced they're all going to hell regardless... well if I believed in hell anyway.
The ink’s still wet on our wills.
Wills are silly. All they seem to be able to do is cause unnecessary conflict between the still exisiting family members. This line reminds me of when I went to the will preparation meeting with my dad.
“It’s time to start over.”
Now there’s a house to sell.
This is when I begin to think that this song really is about divorce. It makes me think of my parent's...
Take this ring of keys
The copies you made for me
I have yet to receive a ring of keys from anyone. Besides George and she doesn't really count.
Tell me the truth, then.
Tell me you love him.
This reminds me of a conversation I recently had. I absolutely despise it when people try to tell me how I feel about someone. I'll tell you the truth: I never loved him.
Maybe this scar won’t heal
This reminds me of all of the times when I've thought that my heart has had enough. I wonder if I will ever be able to feel for someone the way I did for that person, so on and so forth. But in reality, all scars heal. Not just with time, but with patience and sunshine.
I’m just a fool you
Love to be cruel to
The gravel under your wheels.
I'm thinking of a Subaru running me over. And over. And over again. Attempting to gain traction but it either doesn't want to or can't until finally, there's a small space of asphalt, absent of any pebbles, just enough for the wheels to gain said traction, enough for it to drive far away from me. People don't have to be outwardly cruel to be cruel. Every phone call, every email, every attempt to make conversation can be a tiny sword that stabs my heart. Thank god I'm taking fencing lessons.
Without a sound,
I just love the breakdown right here. It pumps you up like, "Hey things were bad but look! There is a light at the end of the tunnel. And someone much more deserving is leading the way."
I’m hiding out,
I’m hiding underground.
I always want to run and hide. This lyric may mean more to me than any of the others in this song. It rings true and deep.
Eleanor,
Eleanor is my Nana's name. I love this song just for that.
I’m hiding out on your back porch.
George and I used to hide underneath Nana's back porch.
Without a sound,
I’m hiding out, I’m hiding underground.
Eleanor,
I’m hiding out on your back porch.
As soon as the fog lifts,
As soon as the smoke drifts.
Isn't that true for everything? As soon as we can see clearly, we know where we're headed.
Nearly November then.
Maine has those sweet pines
I've never been to Maine but George and I want to plan a trip to the east coast soon.
Bells and your wind chimes,
I’ll never be back again.
