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2005-07-07


Photo: Helène Sjöstrand

I stopped writing music when my last enormous supernova love broke up with me.

Before I met her I wrote sad songs. Once I met her I wrote love songs. After our relationship ended I wrote no songs.

I was wounded and sad and depleted. (Sometimes I still am.)

So, what to do about all the love songs that were left half–finished? Until a few days ago I figured they'd live their lives as just that—half–written love songs. They were documentaries when I wrote them. But, the subject matter changed.

I don't know what's worse about breaking up, though: The life–shattering heartbreak and loss, or, the unfinished love songs.

Truly—the songs hurt more, or at least they hurt longer. The rest of my life has pretty much recovered and moved on to new things. My heart has not entirely healed. But, it's healthy. I'm happy, full of life, and living a great existence. Those old songs, however, are frozen in time—forever. They're crisp, stark photos of my feelings—they're the revealing snapshots of my life, and I'm the papparrazzi bringing them to the world. Those chords, those lyrics, they're the most honest window into me—to an un–retrievable time, memories of moments just outside my reach. I wear their lyrics like a badge. They haunt me.

Recently Christoffer and I worked out a deal so that I could come and make my next album at his studio. In trade I would provide some months of management and other services for his band. Suddenly I had a reason to write music again—I had a new album to prepare for.

I've revisited some songs in the past few weeks. They were songs that I thought I'd never finish. My stupid heartbreak kept me from wanting to even admit that I wrote in the first place. But, I got over my pride. I finished two of them. I even played one of the songs live for the first time ever last Friday at my show in Norrköping.

There You Are

The night can be so unsure—
a time of fear, a time of wonder.
Will life go on?
Will the morning come?
Will we die before we wake?

When I awake will you be there?
I wonder will I see you, sparkling?
Every day would be so, so wrong
if I awoke and you were gone.


But every morning's leap of faith
I make with childlike anticipation
when I open up my eyes
and there you are.
There you are!
All my sweetest dreams come true
'cause there you are.

I fall asleep in your milky arms.
Your breath is the dewy breeze in my mind.
But yet my faith is tested by sleep—
will you be there when I awake?

When I awake will you be there?
I wonder will I see you, sparkling?
Every day would be so, so wrong
if I awoke and you were gone.


But every morning's leap of faith
I make with childlike anticipation
when I open up my eyes
and there you are.
There you are!
All my sweetest dreams come true
'cause there you are.


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