January 25 - Going To Hungary

A much more traditional form for an early Mountain Goats song, a slipping and sliding riff with song-spoken lyrics over the top. The form of the lyrics is a movement away from the very early "poetry with music over underneath" form though, and while this is replaced by lyrical stream of consciousness it feels (much as the song does) like chaotic progress towards somerthing.

What I get from this song is the idea of travel as ordeal. The song catches the long and bewildering work of long haul travel, where each moment takes you further away from where and what you think you are. Sleep becomes odd and doesn't happen at sensible times. It's dark when it shouldn't be and light when it shouldn't be, things don't work like you expect them to, the weather is different, the language is different.

And yet we keep moving. Because while we're not the same we're still us, and human souls are resilient. We can stretch to any circumstance almost.

These are times for stretching, and I hope the shapes we become aren't too monstrous.