July July!
The Decemberists Lyrics


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There is a road that meets the road
That goes to my house
And how it green grows there
And we've got special boots
To beat the path to my house
And it's careful and it's careful when I'm there

And I say your uncle was a crooked french Canadian
And he was gut-shot runnin' gin
And how his guts were all suspended in his fingers
And how he held 'em
How he held 'em held, 'em in

And the water rolls down the drain, the water rolls down the drain,
Oh what a lonely thing! in a lonely drain!

July, July, July! never seemed so strange

This is the story of the road that goes to my house
And what ghosts there do remain
And all the troughs that run the length and breadth of my house
And the chickens how they rattle chicken chains

And we'll remember this when we are old and ancient
Though the specifics might be vague
And I'll say your camisole was sprightly light magenta
When in fact it was a nappy blueish grey

And the water rolls down the drain
The blood rolls down the drain
Oh what a lonely thing
In a blood red drain





July, July, July! it never seemed so strange

Overall Meaning

The Decemberists’ song β€œJuly, July!” tells a story of a road leading to the singer’s house and the memories and ghosts that haunt it. The song opens with a description of the road and how it is surrounded by lush greenery. The singer then introduces the idea of special boots needed to beat a path to their house, possibly indicating a sense of isolation or distance from others. The line β€œAnd it’s careful and it’s careful when I’m there” creates a sense of unease, suggesting that there may be something unsettling about the singer’s presence.


In the second verse, the singer tells a story about their French Canadian uncle, who was shot and killed while running gin. The image of him holding his guts in his hands is gruesome and adds to the eerie feeling of the song. The repetition of the line β€œAnd the water rolls down the drain” creates a sense of foreboding, hinting at the possibility of violence or death.


The chorus, β€œJuly, July, July! never seemed so strange” reinforces the idea that there is something unsettling about the singer’s surroundings, perhaps due to the memories tied to the road and the house. The final verse brings up more memories associated with the house, such as troughs and rattling chicken chains. The line, β€œAnd I’ll say your camisole was sprightly light magenta when, in fact, it was a nappy blueish grey,” suggests a blurring of reality and memory, and hints that the singer may not be entirely reliable.


Overall, the song creates a haunting atmosphere through its descriptions of memories and the sense of unease surrounding the singer’s surroundings.


Line by Line Meaning

There is a road that meets the road
There is a path that intersects another path


That goes to my house
That leads to where I live


And how it green grows there
And how the vegetation is abundant in that area


And we've got special boots
And we have footwear designed for trekking


To beat the path to my house
To tread the path that leads to where I live


And it's careful and it's careful when I'm there
And it's cautious when I am present


And I say your uncle was a crooked french Canadian
And I remark about your relative who was a dishonest French Canadian


And he was gut-shot runnin' gin
And he was shot in the gut while running gin


And how his guts were all suspended in his fingers
And how his guts were held in his hands


And how he held 'em
And how he maintained his grip on them


How he held 'em held, 'em in
How he held them tightly in his grasp


And the water rolls down the drain, the water rolls down the drain
And the water flows down the drainage, the water flows down the drainage


Oh what a lonely thing! in a lonely drain!
Oh how lonesome it is, in the solitary drainage


July, July, July! never seemed so strange
July, July, July! has never been this peculiar


This is the story of the road that goes to my house
This is the account of the path that leads to where I live


And what ghosts there do remain
And which spirits still linger


And all the troughs that run the length and breadth of my house
And all the channels that run throughout my house


And the chickens how they rattle chicken chains
And how the chickens make noise with their chains


And we'll remember this when we are old and ancient
And we will recall this when we are elderly and aged


Though the specifics might be vague
Although the details may be unclear


And I'll say your camisole was sprightly light magenta
And I'll say your undergarment was a bright and vivid magenta


When in fact it was a nappy blueish grey
When in reality it was a dingy blue-grey


And the water rolls down the drain
And the water flows down the drainage


The blood rolls down the drain
The blood flows down the drainage


Oh what a lonely thing
Oh how lonesome it is


In a blood red drain
In a drain stained with blood


July, July, July! it never seemed so strange
July, July, July! has never been this peculiar




Lyrics Β© BMG Rights Management
Written by: COLIN MELOY

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

Alyx

There is a road that meets the roadΒ 
That goes to my house
And how it green grows there
And we've got special boots
To beat the path to my house
And it's careful and it's careful when I'm there

And I say your uncle was a crooked french Canadian
And he was gut-shot runnin' gin
And how his guts were all suspended in his fingers
And how he held 'emΒ 
How he held 'em held, 'em in

And the water rolls down the drain, the water rolls down the drain,Β 
Oh what a lonely thing! in a lonely drain!

July, July, July! never seemed so strange

This is the story of the road that goes to my house
And what ghosts there do remain
And all the troughs that run the length and breadth of my house
And the chickens how they rattle chicken chains

And we'll remember this when we are old and ancient
Though the specifics might be vague
And I'll say your camisole was sprightly light magenta
When in fact it was a nappy blueish grey

And the water rolls down the drain
The blood rolls down the drain
Oh what a lonely thing
In a blood red drain

July, July, July! it never seemed so strange



All comments from YouTube:

Felipe Macedo

Thumb up if you're here in 2020 πŸ‘πŸ»

"July, July, July! it never seemed so strange..." #Covid

Potatonado

2022

Brian B

July 2020, yes, it never seemed so strange.

vikkisghost

2022, it seems worse

Jasper Lufkin

@Conchobhar oof @ consenting to your own doom

Conchobhar

July 2021 not much better, but I did just get my second shot!

Alyx

There is a road that meets the roadΒ 
That goes to my house
And how it green grows there
And we've got special boots
To beat the path to my house
And it's careful and it's careful when I'm there

And I say your uncle was a crooked french Canadian
And he was gut-shot runnin' gin
And how his guts were all suspended in his fingers
And how he held 'emΒ 
How he held 'em held, 'em in

And the water rolls down the drain, the water rolls down the drain,Β 
Oh what a lonely thing! in a lonely drain!

July, July, July! never seemed so strange

This is the story of the road that goes to my house
And what ghosts there do remain
And all the troughs that run the length and breadth of my house
And the chickens how they rattle chicken chains

And we'll remember this when we are old and ancient
Though the specifics might be vague
And I'll say your camisole was sprightly light magenta
When in fact it was a nappy blueish grey

And the water rolls down the drain
The blood rolls down the drain
Oh what a lonely thing
In a blood red drain

July, July, July! it never seemed so strange

Meg Safford

@Marcus aka the commonwealth coldly are you ok

Danny

Weird fucking song, as expected from the Decemberists. It's a bop though.

Marcus aka the commonwealth coldly

I'll explain maumelle projector to as tree ashtrays see the price of flames btw free mo.morpberfirexit let me go back home its 7 am and birthday for baby nobody else gonna fix ply.outh

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