There Is A Light That Never Goes Out
I hear that song There is a light that never goes out
but it rings less true than it did once upon a time.
The older we get, the more we turn to silhouettes,
so when I hear the chorus, I feel only at a distance
from the tell-tale guitar of Johnny Marr or Morrisey’s cries.
His voice singing, there is a light that never goes out,
A requiem to teenage years that never quite existed
except in old music videos, or the pages of Rolling Stone.
No, the older we get, the more we turn to silhouettes
where our memories, mere shadows of sense, emerge
on the other side of a train platform in a grainy film noir
or like a sweeping beam of light that never goes out
cutting through a fogbank warning ships off rocks,
the shoreline obscured, invisible, too far away to imagine.
No, the older we get the more we turn to silhouettes.
Our leather jackets with band patches and buttons
hang in the closet or attic. We raise our children
saying our love is a light that never goes out,
While slowly they watch us turn to silhouettes.
by Chris Banks