What Good Is It To Sing Helplessness Blues?
Listening to a songwriter singing from the heart
The songOfTheWeek this week, is Helplessness Blues. By the Fleet Foxes. From their album titled “Helplessness Blues”. The song speaks about the journey of a contemplative modern man; from being a child to “growing up”.
The lyrics are magical.
I was raised up believing I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes
Unique in each way you can see
Like all good parents, mine too told me that I was a unique child. I was someone special. Like a snowflake among the millions of them, but still different. And I believed them.
And now after some thinking, I’d say I’d rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me
And now. After being in the real world by myself for a while, I would say I’d rather be someone playing a role in something that is bigger than me. I care less about being different. I would want to be someone who has helped made something possible, which I would have never been able to do myself alone. Be someone of a little importance, in delivering something of a huge importance. That someone.
But I don’t, I don’t know what that will be
I’ll get back to you someday soon you will see
But I honestly don’t know what that thing would be. I haven’t found it yet. I am searching for it though. I’ll let you know once I do.
What’s my name, what’s my station, oh, just tell me what I should do
I don’t need to be kind to the armies of night
That would do such injustice to you
Or bow down and be grateful and say “sure, take all that you see”
To the men who move only in dimly lit halls and determine my future for me
I don’t yet know myself so well. I haven’t “found” myself yet. I have no place to belong. And I don’t want to belong to the world that is unjust. The world of oppression and sadness. And I don’t want to give up myself to their injustice too. Neither I want let them carve the way of life I should live.
And I don’t, I don’t know who to believe
I’ll get back to you someday soon you will see
If I know only one thing, it’s that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak
Yeah I’m tongue-tied and dizzy and I can’t keep it to myself
What good is it to sing helplessness blues
Why should I wait for anyone else?
The more I ponder, the more I understand that there’s more that I don’t understand of this world. And of myself too. I’m speechless. Hence, I sing. I’m going to tell the world what I don’t know and what I don’t understand and what part of myself I haven’t yet found. I’ll sing. And I’ll carry on this journey, none to assist or tag along. I’m taking a step forward, and I ain’t looking at who or what is with me.
And I know, I know you will keep me on the shelf
I’ll come back to you someday soon myself
And when I have answers to these questions, I’ll return with a better song. But until then, remember me. Make me a memoir. I’ll be back, I promise.
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m raw
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
And you would wait tables and soon run the store
Gold hair in the sunlight, my light in the dawn
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
Someday I’ll be like the man on the screen
If and when I find my purpose, I’ll work my butt off for it. I’ll put in everything I’ve got. I’ll work until I can’t. And work some more.
And you’d be a part of that something purposeful. Maybe. Maybe not. Something worthy to dedicate the life to. And I’ll work hard until I find it.
Someday I’ll be like the man on the screen.
Someday, I’ll be great. Maybe truly unique.
This whole song revolves around a path to self-discovery. Essentially, starting from shattering the ideas fed to you in the young age, whilst you see for yourself what your true potential can be. And moreover, having the will to apply that potential to something meaningful.
To find one’s orchard to work upon.
Regardless of you reading the text above or not, I urge you to donate 5 minutes and 2 seconds of your time to this brilliant piece of art, for yourself.
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