I wrote this song about ten years ago. I can’t remember the motivation for the lyrics, but it was most likely one of those despondent times I occasionally slip into. Unless you’re an incurable optimist, you’re probably familiar with such an occasion. Colors seem muted, food is dull on the palate, and the reasons behind life become a little fuzzy. Essentially, the hillside is dry of dew, the lark is nowhere to be seen, the snail has retreated into his shell, and God is no longer in his heaven. That’s the mindset I think I was trying to articulate in this song.
My apologies to Mr. Browning.