“I woke up in spite of fear/I never asked to be here”
Those two words repeat first in the dry ether and after the warm and gentle picking of the guitar appears. What sounds sweetly sung instead sounds more like a meditative, therapeutic delivery of truth that may not heal but damn sure speaks for anyone who has to exist in the middle of a place slowly devolving into its own void of corruption. In the song, Cleo puts herself in the shoes of a horse looking to “win the race” and later “touch grass.” Still, the Bandcamp description describes this song as something more Wilbur-esque (for those who have seen Charlotte’s Web).
“It is a harrowing realization to notice and understand that the systems seen in the United States are intentionally designed to fail us,” Reed writes. “Each day, I’ve seen who chooses to ride right past the dysfunction in search of industry. I can’t help but admit that I feel more in relation to the horse itself than the jockey.” To most who have always wanted to be artists, the act of winning the industry lottery isn’t just about putting music into the ears of many but probably offering some kind of security. Money and talent are seen as a ticket to one’s safety, and the dangers of letting such dreams drive your decisions on how to survive in both the industries you are in and the country in general.
Written by mynameisblueskye
