I think the rock group Dawes is one of the freshest and most inspirational groups around today. Their lyrics are so down to earth and often carry the weight of the ages. Combined with their familiar but pleasant tunes they reveal intimate aspects of our humanity.
Life is an amalgam of events but they have to be viewed independently of each other to show us how we are composed. We may not always like what we see, feeling a sense of hopelessness as the young suicidal adult in this song, or the choices we made like the older and perhaps homeless man. But for others, like the woman in love planning her wedding, she sees the simple pleasure of life in the little details.
In looking at our life from some grandiose perspective we often miss the small bits that make it up and give it its true meaning. A pearl is but a grain of sand when it begins. It is the slow process of time and interaction with other matter that makes it something of value. In the final analysis it’s not the “psychics” and the “doctors” – the priests, the politicians, the gurus or even our own appointed mentors who attempt to hand us our life in a neatly wrapped package. It is the accumulation of daily events intermingled with our hopes and fears, our dreams and hesitancies and our failures and successes that put substance to what is uniquely us as individual human beings.
With his back against the San Francisco traffic,
On the bridges side that faces towards the jail,
Setting out to join a demographic,
He hoists his first leg up over the rail.
A phone call’s made,
Police cars show up quickly.
The sergeant slams his passenger door.
He says, “Hey son why don’t you talk through this with me,
Just tell me what you’re doing it for.”
“Oh, it’s a little bit of everything,
It’s the mountains,
It’s the fog,
It’s the news at six o’clock,
It’s the death of my first dog,
It’s the angels up above me,
It’s the song that they don’t sing,
It’s a little bit of everything.”
There’s an older man stands in a buffet line,
He is smiling and he’s holding out his plate,
And the further he looks back into his timeline,
That hard road always led him to today,
Making up for when his bright future had left him,
Making up for the fact that his only son is gone,
And letting everything out once, His server asks him,
Have you figured out yet, what it is you want?
I want a little bit of everything,
The biscuits and the beans,
Whatever helps me to forget about
The things that brought me to my knees,
So pile on those mashed potatoes,
And an extra chicken wing,
I’m having a little bit of everything.
Somewhere a pretty girl is writing invitations,
To a wedding she has scheduled for the fall,
Her man says, “Baby, can I make an observation?
You don’t seem to be having any fun at all.”
She said, “You just worry about your groomsmen and your shirt-size,
And rest assured that this is making me feel good,
I think that love is so much easier than you realize,
If you can give yourself to someone,
Then you should.
Cause it’s a little bit of everything,
The way you choke, the way you ache,
It is getting up before you,
So I can watch you as you wake.
So on that day in late September,
It’s not some stupid little ring,
I’m giving a little bit of everything.
Oh, it’s a little bit of everything,
It’s the matador and the bull,
It’s the suggested daily dosage,
It is the red moon when it’s full.
All these psychics and these doctors,
They’re all right and they’re all wrong,
It’s like trying to make out every word,
When they should simply hum along,
It’s not some message written in the dark,
Or some truth that no one’s seen,
It’s a little bit of everything.