These Few Presidents
Why? Lyrics
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The smell of our still-living human bodies and oven gas
You pray to nothing out loud
Two first names and an ampersand
Embroidered proudly on a kitchen towel
You're a beautiful and violent work
With the skinny neck of a Chinese bird
In a fading ancient painting
And if you're in heaven waiting
You made it there fighting
The tightest kite string
In a bad storm with lightning
And now these few presidents
Frowning in my pocket
Can persuade no god
To let me let you talk, oh
These few presidents
Frowning in my pocket
Can persuade no god
To let me let you off
Even though I haven't seen you in years
Yours is a funeral I'd fly to from anywhere
I thought I had a pebble in my sock
I pulled it off and shook out a wasp
It stumbled out lost
And without a pause
Unstung as I was
Still I stomped it
I thought, there is no my paved street worthy
Of your perfect Scandinavian feet
Wha, wha, wha, my crooked Chinese fingers groped
The machinery of your throat
And now these few presidents
Frowning in my pocket
Can persuade no god
To let me let you talk, oh
These few presidents
Frowning in my pocket
Can persuade no god
To let me let you off
Even though I haven't seen you in years
Yours is a funeral I'd fly to from anywhere
The lyrics to Why?'s song "These Few Presidents" paint a vivid picture of a scene inside someone's house where the singer seems to be reflecting on a past relationship. The smell of oven gas and still-living human bodies suggest a sense of decay or stagnation, while the kitchen towel embroidered with "two first names and an ampersand" hints at a previous partnership. The singer describes the person they are addressing as a "beautiful and violent work," with the delicate neck of a Chinese bird, suggesting something fragile and precarious. The image of a kite flying in a bad storm with lightning suggests that the person fought hard to get where they are, and perhaps did so against great odds. The repeated phrase "These few presidents/frowning in my pocket/can persuade no god/to let me let you talk off" suggests a sense of helplessness or frustration at being unable to connect with the person they are speaking to or find closure.
As the song progresses, the singer reflects on the past relationship in increasingly poetic and surreal terms. The image of a wasp in their sock, which they shake out and then stomp on, could be interpreted as a metaphor for unresolved feelings or unfinished business. The singer then describes their own hands as "crooked Chinese fingers" and the person they are addressing as having "perfect Scandinavian feet," suggesting a sense of difference or disconnect between them. The final lines of the song, "Even though I haven't seen you in years/Yours is a funeral I'd fly to from anywhere," suggest a deep and enduring sense of attachment to the person, even if they are no longer in contact.
Overall, the lyrics to "These Few Presidents" are a poignant meditation on the complexities of past relationships, the ways in which they can linger in the mind and heart, and the difficulty of finding closure.
Line by Line Meaning
At your house
The place where you live
The smell of our still-living human bodies and oven gas
The scent of our existence mixed with cooking gas
You pray to nothing out loud
You speak to non-existent beings in hope of salvation
Two first names and an ampersand
A logo that represents the union of two individuals
Embroidered proudly on a kitchen towel
Displayed with honor even on household objects
You're a beautiful and violent work
You are intricately crafted, yet capable of extreme harm
With the skinny neck of a Chinese bird
Having a slender and delicate appearance like certain avian species from China
In a fading ancient painting
In a piece of art that is losing its color and age
And if you're in heaven waiting
If you are in the afterlife anticipating someone's arrival
You made it there fighting
You arrived in heaven after struggling through adversity
The tightest kite string
A taut, thin line for flying a kite
In a bad storm with lightning
Throughout a tumultuous and dangerous weather event
And now these few presidents
Referring to physical currency depicting former US leaders
Frowning in my pocket
Held gloomily in my pocket
Can persuade no god
Cannot convince a higher power to intervene
To let me let you talk, oh
To allow me the chance to communicate with you
Even though I haven't seen you in years
Despite the fact that we haven't met in a long time
Yours is a funeral I'd fly to from anywhere
I would travel anywhere to attend your funeral
I thought I had a pebble in my sock
Assuming there was an object irritating my foot
I pulled it off and shook out a wasp
Removing a stinging insect from my footwear
It stumbled out lost
It exited wobbly and unsure
And without a pause
Continuing without hesitation
Unstung as I was
Not having been stung as previously assumed
Still I stomped it
Regardless, I squished it
I thought, there is no my paved street worthy
My street is not good enough for your refined presence
Of your perfect Scandinavian feet
The extremely well-crafted feet specific to Scandinavian genealogy
Wha, wha, wha, my crooked Chinese fingers groped
My fingers clumsily reached out in attempts to touch you
The machinery of your throat
The intricate inner workings of your vocal cords
Contributed by Julia Y. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
@mdodson08
At your house
The smell of our still-living human bodies and oven gas
You pray to nothing out loud
Two first names and an ampersand
Embroidered proudly on a kitchen towel
You're a beautiful and violent work
With the skinny neck of a Chinese bird
In a fading ancient painting
And if you're in heaven waiting
You made it there fighting
The tightest kite string
In a bad storm with lightning
And now these few presidents
Frowning in my pocket
Can persuade no god
To let me let you talk, oh
These few presidents
Frowning in my pocket
Can persuade no god
To let me let you off
Even though I haven't seen you in years
Yours is a funeral I'd fly to from anywhere
I thought I had a pebble in my sock
I pulled it off and shook out a wasp
It stumbled out lost
And without a pause
Unstung as I was
Still I stomped it
I thought, there is no my paved street worthy
Of your perfect Scandinavian feet
Wha, wha, wha, my crooked Chinese fingers groped
The machinery of your throat
And now these few presidents
Frowning in my pocket
Can persuade no god
To let me let you talk, oh
These few presidents
Frowning in my pocket
Can persuade no god
To let me let you off
Even though I haven't seen you in years
Yours is a funeral I'd fly to from anywhere
@MasterRockySwayzo
Even though I haven’t seen you in years
Yours is a funeral I’d fly to from ANYWHERE
@ericfoster8411
This track has always stood out the most to me for some reason.
@St0neByte
"Yours is a funeral I'd fly to from anywhere." Is one of the most powerful statements ever written.
@Quoyth
Same with me.
@fearoftoasters101imstillaf7
This is so abstract. I love it
@Ghosteexliv
Diamond in the rough
@queen_in_yellow
Love this. Starfish 👍
@saganthacker2167
Also here from Starfish
@S.F.Wolfkiel
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah this reminds me of him! what a sound 🤨 💌
@CapitanDavid
Вернулся к это песне снова, услышал впервые когда ехал на бла была, спасибо водитель)