Sometimes it feels like I’m Geldolf on the phone; an operator in his ear.
Is there supposed to be
someone else there to answer?
This is United States calling, are we reaching?
There’s this look, something like a stare -- hidden behind the round-framed sunglasses that Pink wears through the second half of the film. The part that doesn’t have the catchy songs. The part that doesn’t really match up to the Wizard of Oz at all.
It’s a disconnect, a break in the lines. It’s a little fence you put up to keep yourself protected that’s grown into a preposterous metaphor that used to make a lot of sense in mom’s basement with a stolen bottle of schnapps and a handful of giggling friends, but lately makes you change channels when it comes on the radio during the five o'clock free ride. It’s Run Like Hell, it’s Empty Spaces, it’s The Happiest Days of Our Lives, it’s Comfortably Numb, it’s Nobody Home.
Out there in the cold
getting lonely, getting old
…can you feel me?
All around me, the stage lights and the amplifiers. All around me, the mutating flowers and the animated faces.
I’m growing up and growing apart, carved into vinyl and splattered onto film. I’m Gilmour giving life to Waters imaginings of Barrett’s spiraling despair. I’m over-indulgent white guy whining that only speaks to stoners in Led Zepplin t-shirts and car mechanics who used to be cool.
I am just a new boy,
Stranger in this town….
...I’ll get through it.
In the end, we all do -- don't we? Eventually Roger leaves, and your light and laser show goes on tour without you. But right now, with the phone against my ear and the guitar solo fading out, it’s all around me. All around me. All around me...
“Oh, He hung up!
That's your residence, right?
…I wonder why he hung up?”
Is there supposed to be
someone else there to answer?
This is United States calling, are we reaching?
There’s this look, something like a stare -- hidden behind the round-framed sunglasses that Pink wears through the second half of the film. The part that doesn’t have the catchy songs. The part that doesn’t really match up to the Wizard of Oz at all.
It’s a disconnect, a break in the lines. It’s a little fence you put up to keep yourself protected that’s grown into a preposterous metaphor that used to make a lot of sense in mom’s basement with a stolen bottle of schnapps and a handful of giggling friends, but lately makes you change channels when it comes on the radio during the five o'clock free ride. It’s Run Like Hell, it’s Empty Spaces, it’s The Happiest Days of Our Lives, it’s Comfortably Numb, it’s Nobody Home.
Out there in the cold
getting lonely, getting old
…can you feel me?
All around me, the stage lights and the amplifiers. All around me, the mutating flowers and the animated faces.
I’m growing up and growing apart, carved into vinyl and splattered onto film. I’m Gilmour giving life to Waters imaginings of Barrett’s spiraling despair. I’m over-indulgent white guy whining that only speaks to stoners in Led Zepplin t-shirts and car mechanics who used to be cool.
I am just a new boy,
Stranger in this town….
...I’ll get through it.
In the end, we all do -- don't we? Eventually Roger leaves, and your light and laser show goes on tour without you. But right now, with the phone against my ear and the guitar solo fading out, it’s all around me. All around me. All around me...
“Oh, He hung up!
That's your residence, right?
…I wonder why he hung up?”