We Live Again
Beck Lyrics


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These withered hands
Have dug for a dream
Sifted through sand
And leftover nightmares
Over the hill
A desolate wind
Turns shit to gold
And blows my soul crazy

The end
O the end
We live again
O I grow weary of the end

O hungry days
The footsteps of fools
Gazing alone
Through sex-painted windows
Dredging the night
Drunk libertines
Stink like a colognes
From the newfangled wasteland

The end
O the end
We live again
O I grow weary of the end

Love is a plague
In a mix-match parade
Where the castaways look so deranged
When will the children learn
To let their wildernesses burn
And love will be new never cold and vacant

These withered hands have dug for a dream
Sifted through sand and leftover nightmares

The end
Of the end




We live again
Oh I grow weary of the end

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Beck's song We Live Again are open to different interpretations, but one way to understand them is through the lens of existentialism. The first verse speaks of the singer's efforts to find meaning in life, which he compares to digging for a dream and sifting through sand and leftover nightmares. The withered hands suggest a sense of weariness and futility, but also a determination to keep searching. The phrase "turns shit to gold" can be seen as a metaphor for the transformative power of creativity, which can take the base materials of life and turn them into something valuable and beautiful. However, the desolate wind that blows the singer's soul crazy suggests that this process is also fraught with risk and uncertainty.


The second verse introduces a sense of social critique, as the singer observes the "footsteps of fools" and the "sex-painted windows" of a decadent and hollow society. The night is dredged by "drunk libertines" who stink like colognes, which can be interpreted as a metaphor for the false and shallow promises of consumer culture. The repetition of the phrase "the end" can be seen as a reflection of the singer's sense of alienation from this world, as well as a longing for transcendence and renewal.


The final verse brings together the themes of love and hope, as well as a reflection on the cyclical nature of life. Love is described as a "plague" in a "mix-match parade" where the castaways look "deranged", which suggests both the destructive and transformative potential of passion. The children who learn to let their "wildernesses burn" can be seen as a metaphor for the process of growth and self-discovery, which involves accepting and embracing the uncertainties and challenges of existence. The final repetition of the chorus, with its combination of weariness and renewal, suggests that the singer has found some measure of peace and acceptance in the face of the eternal cycle of life and death.


Line by Line Meaning

These withered hands
Beck is describing his worn and tired hands


Have dug for a dream
He has put in a lot of effort to attain his dreams


Sifted through sand
He has gone through tough times and struggles to achieve his goals


And leftover nightmares
Even after getting what he wants, he still has to deal with the consequences of his past struggles


Over the hill
He has overcome many obstacles


A desolate wind
He feels alone in his achievements


Turns shit to gold
He has turned something ugly into something beautiful


And blows my soul crazy
His success has made him feel restless and unsure


The end
He is feeling the end of something, potentially his dreams or his life


O the end
He emphasizes the feeling of something coming to a close


We live again
Even though things may be ending, he has hope for the future


O I grow weary of the end
Despite his hope, he is still tired of things coming to an end


O hungry days
He is describing a time when he was desperate for something


The footsteps of fools
He believes that others have made foolish decisions in trying to attain their dreams


Gazing alone
He feels lonely in his struggle for success


Through sex-painted windows
He may have used superficial or impure means to achieve his goals


Dredging the night
He has had to go through difficult times to get what he wants


Drunk libertines
Others who have succeeded have done so recklessly and without care for others


Stink like colognes
Their success may not be genuine and may have negative effects


From the newfangled wasteland
The environment in which success is achieved has changed and is new


Love is a plague
He sees love as a negative force


In a mix-match parade
He feels that love is portrayed in mismatched and inconsistent ways


Where the castaways look so deranged
People who are trying to find love may come off as desperate and crazy


When will the children learn
He has hope that future generations will learn from past mistakes


To let their wildernesses burn
He believes that people should embrace and accept their true selves, even if it's uncomfortable or destructive


And love will be new never cold and vacant
If people can truly be themselves and accept each other, love will be genuine and fulfilling


Of the end
He repeats the feeling of something coming to a close




Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: Beck Hansen

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Most interesting comments from YouTube:

TheRattyTube

These withered hands 
Have dug for a dream 
Sifted through sand 
And leftover nightmares 
Over the hill 
A desolate wind 
Turns shit to gold 
And blows my soul crazy
The end 
O the end 
We live again 
O I grow weary of the end
O hungry days 
The footsteps of fools 
Gazing alone 
Through sex-painted windows 
Dredging the night 
Drunk libertines 
Stink like a colognes 
From the newfangled wasteland
The end 
O the end 
We live again 
O I grow weary of the end
Love is a plague 
In a mix-match parade 
Where the castaways look so deranged 
When will the children learn 
To let their wildernesses burn 
And love will be new never cold and vacant
These withered hands have dug for a dream 
Sifted through sand and leftover nightmares
The end 
Of the end 
We live again 
Oh I grow weary of the end



Roiy Benkel

These withered hands
Have dug for a dream
Sifted through sand
And leftover nightmares
Over the hill
A desolate wind
Turns shit to gold
And blows my soul crazy
The end
O the end
We live again
O I grow weary of the end
O hungry days
The footsteps of fools
Gazing alone
Through sex-painted windows
Dredging the night
Drunk libertines
Stink like a colognes
From the newfangled wasteland
The end
O the end
We live again
O I grow weary of the end
Love is a plague
In a mix-match parade
Where the castaways look so deranged
When will the children learn
To let their wildernesses burn
And love will be new never cold and vacant
These withered hands have dug for a dream
Sifted through sand and leftover nightmares
The end
Of the end
We live again
Oh I grow weary of the end



All comments from YouTube:

TheRattyTube

These withered hands 
Have dug for a dream 
Sifted through sand 
And leftover nightmares 
Over the hill 
A desolate wind 
Turns shit to gold 
And blows my soul crazy
The end 
O the end 
We live again 
O I grow weary of the end
O hungry days 
The footsteps of fools 
Gazing alone 
Through sex-painted windows 
Dredging the night 
Drunk libertines 
Stink like a colognes 
From the newfangled wasteland
The end 
O the end 
We live again 
O I grow weary of the end
Love is a plague 
In a mix-match parade 
Where the castaways look so deranged 
When will the children learn 
To let their wildernesses burn 
And love will be new never cold and vacant
These withered hands have dug for a dream 
Sifted through sand and leftover nightmares
The end 
Of the end 
We live again 
Oh I grow weary of the end

Adam Hitze

I cant put my finger on it. But this album, this song specifically, gives me a kind of nostalgia that is unfamiliar yet its like its familiar deep down inside. Or it resonates with some subconscious part of me. Beck is a master at this type of thing, whatever you would call it. Anyone feel the same and could maybe shed some insight into what it is here that I cant explain?

Tyler Thompson

I agree, part of his brilliance was to be timeless and timely at the same time.

tinfoilhatter

it's called 'soul', it defies definition!
[he writes, sings, and plays, not with instruments and hands,, but with his soul, man] i also call it 'art'

Babylon Central

Appreciate your thoughts and feel the same. My only answer is that we are listening to a composer working at his highest, rawest level. Mutations is his finest work.

eric witz

Just a genius! Great arrangement!

Josh Link

This is my absolute favorite album

Barron Tant

Great song. When I was 20 didn't realize it was so good. Shame on me.

tinfoilhatter

@tommypepperdick wait til you're 27! it was like 2000 and i was 35,,,, i was gettin' old! that's when i said, piss-on-all-this-crap, we're gettin' younger from now on, but it was easier said than done! so now i'm about 37 again....but a very young 37!

Bob Upandown

"Fool me once, shame on me..!" G.W.B repping 109. Calculated. Feign. 3+combo's. 🇺🇸

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