At the Bottom of Everything

This is one of my favorite lyrics for a song.  It’s Bright Eyes: “At the Bottom of Everything”

“So there was this woman and she was on an airplane, and she was flying to meet her fiancé seaming high above the largest ocean on planet earth. She was seated next to this man she had tried to start conversations, but the only thing she had really heard him say was to order his Bloody Mary. She was sitting there and she was reading this really arduous magazine article about a third world country that she couldn’t even pronounce the name of. And she was feeling very bored and despondent. And then suddenly there was this huge mechanical failure and one of the engines gave out, and they started just falling thirty-thousand feet, and the pilots on the microphone and he’s saying “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh my god… I’m sorry” and apologizing. And she looks at the man and says “Where are we going?” and he looks at her and he says “We’re going to a party. It’s a birthday party. It’s your birthday party. Happy birthday darling. We love you very, very, very, very, very, very, very much.” And then he starts humming this little tune, it kind of goes like this: 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4


We must talk in every telephone

Get eaten off the web

We must rip out all the epilogues in the books that we have read

And in the face of every criminal

Strapped firmly to a chair

We must stare, we must stare, we must stare


We must take all of the medicines too expensive now to sell

Set fire to the preacher who is promising us hell

And in the ear of every anarchist that sleeps but doesn’t dream

We must sing, we must sing, we must sing


It’ll go like this:


While my mother waters plants

My father loads his guns

He says death will give us back to God

Just like this setting sun is returned to this lonesome ocean


And then they splashed into the deep blue sea

It was a wonderful splash


We must blend into the choir

Sing as static with the whole

We must memorize nine numbers and deny we have a soul

And in this endless race for property and privilege to be won

We must run, we must run, we must run


We must hang up in the belfry

Where the bats and moonlight laugh

We must stare into a crystal ball and only see the past

And in the caverns of tomorrow

With just our flashlights and our love

We must plunge, we must plunge, we must plunge


And then we’ll get down there, way down to the very bottom of everything

And then we’ll see it, oh we’ll see it, we’ll see it, we’ll see it


Oh my morning’s coming back

The whole world’s waking up

All the city buses swimming past

I’m happy just because

I found out I am really no one


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