Story Behind The Song
Inspired by a painter in Seattle and a drummer in Brooklyn. Two friends who could easily sell out and make a little money, but who cling to their integrity and opt to create what they need to create, not what would be easy and obvious. They are two very admirable guys in a world increasingly devoid of such people. They deserve to be sung about.
Song Description
The singer travels from the west coast to the east coast of America, re-living conversations he has had with other artists as he reflects upon the nature of art and the status of the artist in the modern world. It seems to be a bleak picture, as the two friends give two varying accounts of how they have sacrificed everything for their art and received nothing in return. All seems hopeless unitl the last verse, when we find the singer in an un-named part of America, on an isolated hilltop, drinking in all that is good in the world, and finding hope.
Song Length |
5:19 |
Genre |
Folk - General |
Tempo |
Tempo Undefined |
Lead Vocal |
Male Vocal |
Mood |
Peaceful, Serene |
Subject |
Gourmet Food, Cigarettes |
Language |
English |
| |
Lyrics
Air Holes
copyright 2003 Richard Popovic
It was on a boardwalk in a dying resort town
On the west coast of the new America
Our tired eyes followed the falling sun
I could?ve made a million, he cries, painting flower after flower
They always bought the flowers and ignored the important ones
How-did-it-ever come to this
How did we get this far
This far away from our souls
We closed-the-doors-and electrified the sky
We kept our fireflies in a jar
But we forgot about the air holes
The medium may change
But the sketch it stays the same
I fed the dream my whole life but still it slowly starved
It was the breaking of my art
It was on a sidewalk in a thriving hipster town
On the east coast of the new America
Our tired eyes took in the rising sun
We just sold out the ballroom, he laughs, and they love us out in London
But you can?t eat the applause and the rent is past due this month
The tune it may change
But the melody?s the same
I feed the dream my whole life but still it slowly starves
It is the breaking of my art
How-did-it-ever come to this
How did we get this far
This far away from our souls
We closed-the-doors-and electrified the sky
We kept our fireflies in a jar
But we covered up the air holes
The tune it may change
But the melody?s the same
I feed the dream my whole life but still it slowly starves
It is the breaking of my art
It was on a hilltop in a tiny mountain town
In the land that?s always been America
Our shining eyes drank in the loving sun
copyright 2003 Richard Popovic
(603) 256-6366
richard@halfthebottle.com