Straight Lines

In this song, a woman takes increasingly severe measures to cope with the pain in her life. A life which she ultimately decides to end.

The song begins with "the sound... of cold metal/ Touching skin." This is an allusion to the unfortunate practice of "cutting," the act of making incisions in one's skin as an attempt to "feel something." It is often done my people whose lives have become so painful, they have decided to become stoic and unemotional. Yet, the need for emotion surfaces, and the response of cutting is quite extreme indeed.

However, in this case, the allusion is not fulfilled, and all that has been "cut" is the woman's "hair." (The hair was blonde; it is referred to as "soft golden lights.") Still, the fact that this act is so rote as to be considered something done "again"-- with the eye-rolling phrasing of "here she goes again"--  is worrisome.

There is an invitation to observe this event, too. We are urged to hear the "sound" at the beginning, and now to "see," and even "look in her window." But it is not the ogling of a voyeur, rather the detached gaze of the psychologist or even anthropologist.

We note that the hair was cut "in straight lines." Perhaps she is seeking to create a sense of order in a chaotic life.

Another troubling sign is subtle. This self-inflicted haircut happened "in the morning." Usually such time-consuming treatments happen in the evening, when there is more time. It seems she has no other obligations to rush off to-- no school or job.

Also interesting is that, if we do look through the window, our view will not be impeded by glass; the window is open, at least enough for the "wind" to sweep her fallen hairs "through the apartment." This carelessness is also upsetting. Why doesn't she care that there is hair all over her floor now? Most people would try to contain the mess. So much for straight lines.

Then comes the enigmatic line "She don't need them/ Anymore." Of course not. Snipped-off hairs are always discarded as rubbish. So why say this, let along emphasize it with repetition? Perhaps she had used her hair to put forth an attractive mien, and no longer wishes to be attractive, to attract positive attention. Withdrawal from society is another "red flag."

And why the grammatically incorrect "don't"? This is our only clue to the speaker's identity.

Next, we learn that she has "cut down" something else! The line "she's cut down" is sharply divided from the rest of the phrase, "on her lovers." The expression "to cut down on" means "to reduce consumption of." One might say "I've cut down on calories" or even "television watching." Here, she has cut her romantic relationships. Again, her emotions refuse to be controlled: "She still dreams of them at night."

"She's growing straight lines/ Where once were flowers." Life can be confusing. The woman here has tired of this complexity and is seeking simplicity. But there is no escaping complexity-- even in a totalitarian society, or a self-imposed jail-- without escaping life. But that's getting ahead of ourselves.

For now, she has "streamlined" herself with her haircut... and her life, with her solitude. Perhaps she has gotten rid of other things, too. Purging oneself of possessions can be a symptom of trouble, just a hoarding can. We already know that there are no carpets or rugs on her "wooden floor," because the hairs have scattered all "through the apartment."

And now, she is not "opening" or "drawing back" the shade, but "taking (it) down" entirely! She does this "to see the straight lines." Literally, the lines framing her window panes, those formed by the fire escape, the sidewalk panels, the streets, the bricks and windows and shapes of the buildings, lampposts, fences-- all straight lines.

Figuratively, she is removing  those things that cause shades of gray. She wants straight lines, and also black-and-white vistas.

Also being cut are "the circles/ That she has lived in before." Perhaps her relationships have proven circular in motion instead of progressing forward. Perhaps this is also true of her education and employment.

"She wants to finally kill the delusions/ She won't need them/ Anymore." All of which could be changed with many methods. She could take a vacation, enter into therapy, talk with friends or clergy, speak with a career counselor, begin meditation... any number of things to help her find clarity and end the cyclical patterns she seems to perpetuate.

She does none of them. The next thing we hear is another "sound." It's "cold metal" again. But this time, "too close to the bone."

Yes, she killed herself. Most likely, by slashing her wrists. She is, now, "finally alone/ Behind straight lines." Even in her apartment, there were dreams of lovers and nosy neighbors (ourselves included),

Flowers are messy. They bring water, dirt, fertilizer, pollen, thorns, fallen petals, water-logged stems, dead leaves, and ultimately dead flowers. But they are considered by most to be among the most beautiful things in the world. The mess is the price of the beauty.

This woman no longer could see any beauty in her life. No rug was worth the vacuuming. No boyfriend worth the angst. No flowers worth the mess. She wanted as little interaction, as little friction as possible.

She could not become streamlined enough with her straight lines. Ironically, the most streamlined things there are-- from bullet trains to bottlenose dolphins-- are made of curves.

If she had only learned to bend... or if anyone in her life had noticed her obvious signs of mental illness and pre-suicide behaviors. Then again, it may have been these well-meaning attempts at intervention that drove her into isolation. We'll never know, now.


Next Song: Undertow