Walking back to my car today, I wondered what was so special about music. It's such a major component of most of our lives, and even of society. People love this song. They love that band. They swoon over singer. But why? Is it the beauty of the poetic lyricism? Is it that soothing melody? That power to wordlessly express an infinitude of emotions? That awesome guitar solo?
For me, the messages of songs have always made the greatest impact. It's always been the lyrics that draw the line between songs that stay on my iPod forever and songs that get tossed before the play count reaches 50. I used to think words could affect people. That's why I write. I hope one of these days I'll put the right letters together and maybe touch someone's heart.
But today I began to wonder if that is possible. Can words really mend a broken heart? Can they melt a heart of stone? Or are they just whispers lost in the wind? While I was walking in the lot, a girl pulled up in a silver Civic. Her windows were down and her radio was blasting Nickelback's "If today was your last day." At the same time, a huge SUV headed in the other direction stopped for a moment, then moved on. As the SUV rolled by, the Civic girl muttered "Just move, bitch" as Chad Kroeger inquired, would you live each moment like your last?
Nickelback definitely is not one of the greatest bands of all time. Most of their songs are more or less the same, instrumentally. But I like the song because of the message it implies. That is, to live in such a way that no matter when it ends, you can confidently proclaim that you have no regrets.
After all, we shouldn't need a song to remind us of that. There are no guarantees of tomorrow. We live like we're invincible. But really, we're all as fragile as glass-- waiting to shatter. Now I wonder though, does it matter that the airwaves aren't telling us we'll be forever young anymore? Is anyone really listening?
Most of the time, it doesn't feel like they are. We go on hurting each other. We waste time mourning over the past, dreaming about the future. We hold grudges. We grow bitter. And we're always waiting, waiting for tomorrow. But tomorrow never comes.
If today was your last day, and tomorrow was too late/
Could you say good-bye to yesterday?/
Would you live each moment like your last/
Leave old pictures in the past/
Donate every dime you had?//
And would you call those friends you never see?/
Reminisce old memories?/
Would you forgive your enemies?//
And would you find the one you're dreaming of?
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