Stand Inside Your Love

By The Smashing Pumpkins
 

You and me
Meant to be
Immutable
Impossible
It's destiny
Pure lunacy
Incalculable
Insufferable
But for the last time
You're everything that I want and ask for
You're all that I'd dreamed
Who wouldn't be the one you love
Who wouldn't stand inside your love
Protected and the lover of
A pure soul and beautiful you
Don't understand
Don't feel me now
I will breathe
For the both of us
Travel the world
Traverse the skies
Your home is here
Within my heart
And for the first time
I feel as though I am reborn
In my mind
Recast as child and mystic sage
Who wouldn't be the one you love
Who wouldn't stand inside your love
And for the first time
I'm telling you how much I need and bleed for
Your every move and waking sound
In my time
I'll wrap my wire around your heart and your mind
You're mine forever now
Who wouldn't be the one you love and live for
Who wouldn't stand inside your love and die for
Who wouldn't be the one you love 

Is there still a place, a role, for passion and devotion like this in conventional, adult existence? I remember feeling like this as a teenager. It revisits now and again, but taxes, insurance, and dinner parties take their toll on passion, on the chances to immerse oneself in the things that make us feel deeply and want wildly. Such a big, wide world - and it's so easy to stay stuck in such a tiny morsel of it, such a tiny plot of planet, such a limited pattern of neurons, day in, day out. What happens to the weird, the unknown, what happens to wonder, to being moved? What happens when we find ourselves so consumed with the every day that we suddenly notice that the amount of time we have for passionate existence is something we scrimp and scrape to obtain - living only for a half hour of stolen time in a day when we're lucky to find even that?