On This River is Wild

Sitting on the no. 13 bus -- it's a little red bus, single storey. Watching life race past, the people, the roads, the shops and the grass.

So I'm sitting on the no. 13, listening to This River is Wild by The Killers. I feel better if I put the video here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaU4tCrll0c

And I'm thinking, this song defines me at this moment:

This town was meant for passing through

But it ain't nothing new

Oxford's just Oxford. Everything will be as is even if I came back here years and years from now.

But then there's that whole zombie scare in Miami:

Run for the hills before they burn

Listen to the sound of the world

Watch it turn

Yeah we must run for the hills, as paraphrased from Max Brooks' Zombie Survival Guide. Brandon Flowers knew what he was singing about.

I don't think I ever seen so many headlights

But there's something pulling me

The circus and the crew

Well they're just passing through

Making sure the merry still goes round

But it's a long, long, long way down

It's a long, long way down. God speed you boy. This river is wild.

Someone told me that that's the problem with people these days. They pay too much attention to the lyrics. Well I must apologise. It's almost eight at night and it's still bright. I'm from warmer climes where dusk falls at seven. Does something to me.

So, yeah. I pay much attention to the lyrics. But if you ignored it, This River is Wild is still a wicked song.