[Listen to this song while reading this post]
We’re the three lighthouse keepers leaving behind six months’ worth of food and equipment without leaving a note, words would only stir the passion in those we desire to leave behind. There’s no time to say goodbye, we have to disappear before sunshine, before the lights in the lighthouse have moved from one corner to the other, before we can hear the light being switched off, before we begin to understand the movement of the waves and the sounds they make. There’s no time to acknowledge the beauty of the morning, the waves have never been the same, and they’ll never be the same. We’re the three lighthouse keepers leaving behind six months’ worth of food and equipment, warm beds, I’m pulling my trousers knowing that soon the warmth in our beds shall die along with the memory of sleep, and that there’s no trail behind us. But before we even think of leaving I count nights one by one. Three more nights, two more nights, one more night, this is the last night we never had, our sleep like a web and the furious waves like the spider hunting for lost souls, and before I wake up I tremble, morning has set a city made out of nails at my feet over which I’ll have to step, and as I look ahead I see the other two lighthouse keepers weeping silently, I’m so sorry one of them says, the waves have never been the same. I keep you in my hands and I try to talk, say nice things to you, and you say you are happy, two more nights and we’ll finally be together, at last, no more making plans, and I say the same, no more making plans, love, no more making plans, and I think I must be such a bastard because I say that knowing that you’ll keep making plans but those plans won’t involve me, they’ll involve somebody else. But then, as I say that, I hope for a miracle to happen, I still hope the devil will listen to my prayers and save me from disappearing completely from the series of plans you’ve made for me, because every night I went out and sat on top of the lighthouse and prayed silently until the devil became the savior. I am one of the three lighthouse keepers leaving behind six months’ worth of food and equipment, my bedside lamp and my reading shoes, I sail in the evening sky trying not to think of you, saying that I’m actually going out with the other two lighthouse keepers and you say how nice, how happy you are for me, three more nights like these and no more plans, and I say the same thing, no more plans, my love. And I call your name once more into the night, and while you say you’re the happiest man on Earth I say the same thing, but in fact, the night has set a city of burning coals at my feet, my love, I’m afraid this is goodbye. We’re the three lighthouse keepers leaving behind six months’ worth of food and equipment, and I’m leaving you behind, no more plans, love.