Weekend Earworm: 07/06/2013

[Warning: early throws of midlife crises may be emergent in the following post.]

Ah, those restless dreams of youth as we felt trapped within the circumscribed existence of middle-of-the-middle-class, college-track teenage years; almost adults but still tied to mom and dad's house and rules.

Growing up it all seems so one-sided
Opinions all provided
The future pre-decided
Detached and subdivided
In the mass production zone
Nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone

We were going to bust-out and follow our dreams, our paths and show how we could change the world for the better. We would change it forever. We would follow it out the doors of our parents' houses—smack into the realities of life; however, prior to that, we would travel in and out of the various subdivisions of our neighborhoods, our full and semi-cliques, and our fickle interests and fancies.

Our fickle interests and fancies... driving us, chafing with us to break free of our enforced apathy.

(Subdivisions)
In the high school halls
In the shopping malls
Conform or be cast out
(Subdivisions)
In the basement bars
In the backs of cars
Be cool or be cast out

What was old has become new. Looking back as the years turn in the new confines of our adult lives, we again touch upon the chafing and the urges and the paths not taken for pragmatism.

Poor, strung-out and self-destructively creative? We abandoned that to afford the apartment, the car, the mortgage. Saved we were from the many privations of that life, we now light ourselves up with too much to drink at the 4th of July fireworks, rather than continue to light-up and push our guitar, our piano, our verse, our prose into that expression of our dreams left behind as we have exchanged one suburb for another...

Any escape might help to smooth the unattractive truth
But the suburbs have no charms to soothe the restless dreams of youth

Drawn like moths we drift into the city
The timeless old attraction
Cruising for the action
Lit up like a firefly
Just to feel the living night

Some will sell their dreams for small desires
Or lose the race to rats
Get caught in ticking traps
And start to dream of somewhere
To relax their restless flight
Somewhere out of a memory of lighted streets on quiet nights...

I feel it's rather fitting to show this song with the guys being much older but still hard at it.

Crank it up!