I did in fact write this song on a sunny day shortly after walking past a funeral procession on Duke street. I was on my way to my parents’ house to spend the night in my childhood home. The unexpected nature of being confronted by a funeral when you’re so busy living is hard to stomach. It’s an essential part of life yet to be met by an image of death when you’re not prepared for it is unnerving.
That evening, sitting in what was once my 12 year old bedroom, I found myself consumed with a curiosity. I wanted to know who that person was and what their life meant to those distraught people on that sunny afternoon.
At first I worried that the deceased was in fact young, like so many of their guests. People so often commiserate these tragedies with the sad remark of “they had so much life ahead of them”. But then that got me to thinking, regardless of their age who’s to say they had or hadn’t lived as much as they could have? What determines a life well lived… what we leave behind? The impact we make? Others memories of us that carry on?
I wrote this song in an attempt to rid myself of an overwhelming sense of dread. Because I certainly don’t have the answer and I’m not sure it’s likely that I ever will. I wrote this song to take the question from my head, to paper, to sound… And hopefully to ears of those who are equally as uncertain, but willing to come together in the messiness of that uncertainty. How much life does it take, to not feel like you’ve left it all too late?