Lost Cause

Listen while you read: This one's weird  or you can try this one .

Your sorry eyes cut through the bone
They make it hard to leave you alone
Leave you here wearing your wounds
Waving your guns at somebody new

Baby, you're a lost
Baby, you're a lost
Baby, you're a lost cause

There's too many people you used to know
They see you coming, they see you go
They know your secrets, and you know theirs
This town is crazy; nobody cares

I'm tired of fighting
I'm tired of fighting
Fighting for a lost cause

There's a place where you are going
You ain't never been before
No one left to watch your back now
No one standing at your door
That's what you thought love was for

~ Beck Hansen

"Lost Cause" was part of Beck's eighth album, 2002's heartbreak-themed Sea Change. He wrote it after a break-up with his girlfriend of many years. Despite its age and the number of times I've heard it, my ears still perk up whenever it's played on my music sources. Its sadness and melancholy get me every time.

And yes, my melancholy lingers, as melancholy is wont to do. Maybe if the thermometer would rise above the mid-sixties and the sun would turn the skies blue, I would snap out of this. Meanwhile, I'm wearing fleecy Uggs slippers and rubbing my hands in search of warmth. I know, I know, this, too, shall pass.

But I thought I might have some fun with this song, see it through a lens other than heartbreak. I am thinking that there's a lost cause residing in a certain white house on Pennsylvania Avenue, one with sorry eyes and sorry hands, waving guns at somebody new.  There are all those people you used to know, like Frederick Douglas and Luciano Pavarotti, who see you coming and see you go, as ghosts will. Who comes to mind at the line They know your secrets and you know theirs? Michael Flynn? Paul Manafort? Carter Page? Roger Stone? Jefferson Beauregard Sessions? This town is crazy; nobody cares.

There's a place where you are going
You ain't never been before
No one left to watch your back now

Oh, the image! The head bowed in shame! The handcuffs! The FBI escorts! The cheers from the people! The very thought lifts me out of my blues.

I'm tired of fighting. But I'm not giving up, and neither should you. (Props to Kate McKinnon.)