There Is was released by Boxcar Racer in 2002 on their self-titled album and received quite a bit of airtime for a short while. Lyrics are very personal. Each song can easily morph either subtly or even drastically to apply meaning to the individual listener. I offer this to you not just as a lyrics node but also as to why this song is important to me. Though a rare occurrence, we have all had this happen: a song's lyrics are almost too exact to our real and personal lives. There Is was just that for me.

It was amazing how references to what would seem so specific for the author yet works so specifically for individuals. It seems a good sign of a lyrics author is the ability to make a person feel so spoken to in the words (an ability even referred to by, dare I make the analogy, Eminem and other “meta-singers”). The entire album feels like a long exhale of pure depression yet this one track feels more like a perfectly quoted story and monologue directly transcribed from one’s own memory. It can be pictured as a reminiscing evening on a beach, a long drive home, or any ending to a reflective series of events. My life was returning from a long five-day weekend that was revolutionary.

During 2002 my life took a sharp turn and felt as though it was slowly crumbling. I lost so much, mainly in relationships, so much that I would never get back. Having my bout with OCD at the time inflamed matters. However, my optimism coupled with two unexpected friends proved to be my lifeline. The nostalgia, and pain accompanying it, thrust itself strongest on a certain trip south.

this vacation's useless
these white pills aren't kind
I found no relief in any sort of a getaway.
i've given a lot of thought on this 13-hour drive
Nostalgia seemed to be a sort of lingering pain and yet… retreat.
i missed the grinding concrete where we sat past 8 or 9
and slowly finished laughing in the glow of our headlights
The first thoughts I drift to were all those nights driving and laughing until we cried. To this day none of us could remember a single thing that made us laugh which may be the best part of it. No matter where we were going, or coming back from, the car trip was always a great time no matter what the conversation, or lack thereof.
i've given a lot of thought to the nights we use to have
the days have come and gone
our lives went by so fast
What is perhaps most painful is the illusion of immortality. It seems like all those times we spent together were never going to end. The fact that they are gone makes them suddenly grow infinitely in meaning. The simple things are lost.
i faintly remember breathing on your bedroom floor
where i laid and told you but you sweared you loved me more
I remember late night talks, promises made, and now broken.
do you care if i don't know what to say
will you sleep tonight or will you think of me
will i shake this off pretend its all okay
that there's someone out there who feels just like me
there is
It seems like for the first time in all of this: I am speechless. What exactly am I supposed to do? You want me to move on, just "pretend it's all okay", something that is just seemingly impossible. How can I stand this pain, stand this sting of the past, knowing you are somewhere privately experiencing this same pain.
those notes you wrote me
i've kept them all
You'd be surprised what I kept. The packrat is the one that nostalgia can hit the hardest. Memories are more than fleeting images behind my eyelids. Memories are movie ticket stubs, stupid Post-it notes, poems, posters, and even calligraphy.
i've given a lot of thought of how to write you back this fall
I keep thinking about how to get back to what we had and how to return to the good.
with every single letter in every single word there
will be a hidden message about a boy that
loves a girl
With near shame: these words are edited in my head. There's so much more than this simplistic meaning that needs to be examined and conveyed.
do you care if i don't know what to say
will you sleep tonight or will you think of me
will i shake this off
pretend its all okay that there's someone out there who feels just like me
there is

do you care if i don't know what to say?
will you sleep tonight or will you think of me
will i shake this off
pretend its all okay that there's someone out there who feels just like me

do you care if i don't know what to say?
will you sleep tonight or will you think of me
will i shake this off
pretend its all okay that there's someone out there who feels just like me
there is
It's incredible how true the cliché can be: I never knew what I had until I lost it. Can people change? Can I change? Can anyone change? Can change even fix anything? Should it? Will it?

CST Approved

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