Wild Horses :: The Rolling Stones
“I watched you suffer,
a dull, aching pain,
and now you’ve decided to show me the same.
No sweeping exits,
or offstage lines,
can make me feel bitter, or treat you unkind.”
The original is one of my favorite songs, and the cover by The Sundays is a musical snapshot of a certain time in my life. It was summertime and I was back living at home more by consequence of clumsy decisions then anything near choice. I was chasing after a dreamed up wish for peace, and running away from myself in the process, as usual.
We sat on the floor, legs tucked into ourselves, knees touching as we faced each other. You passed a half-smoked joint to me and I made a face. You said it had been too many days, that I was keyed up – that we both were, and that it would help. I laughed. Nothing really helped in those days.
You were teaching yourself to play guitar. I noticed it leaning against the wall, and smiled. “Everyone I have ever loved has played guitar.” You tilted your head then, looking at me with a funny expression, and asked,
“Do you love me?”
I whispered, “no.”
You stood up and crossed over to the guitar, cradling it like a child in your arms. You sat on the edge of the bed and started to play, your eyes closing, shutting the world out, and disappearing. I knew the song immediately, and sang it softly to myself.
Wild Horses :: The Sundays
I had lied. I did love you.
But all those that I had loved before, with their guitars and their songs, had left me eventually, or hurt me in ways that time had not yet healed, so it was much easier to lie, to you, and to me, that late summer afternoon, if it meant I could stay there with you, and that you would not leave me too soon.
“Wild horses, couldn’t drag me away.”