The Weakerthans - This Is A Fire Door, Never Leave Open

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I still hear trains at night when the wind is right I remember everything Lick and thread this string

That will never mend you or tailor more Than a memory of a kitchen floor Or the fire door that we kept propping open

And I love this place: the enormous sky And the faces, hands that I’m haunted by So why can’t I forgive these buildings These frameworks labeled home?

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There’s something so incredibly evocative about the lyrics to this track, of which I’ve just posted a few because otherwise no one will read an entire block of song lyrics.

John K. Samson is, in my opinion, one of the finest poets and songwriters of his generation. He’s loved by those who know him, but otherwise completely unknown, and I consider that a tragedy.

I mean, ffs, he wrote four songs about a cat, and they’re one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. There’s a line in the second song, ‘Virtute The Cat Explains Her Departure’;

I can’t remember the sound you found for me

which is Virtute admitting that she can’t remember her name, and doesn’t know how to get home. That makes me well up every damn time.