10.20-TRUST (Pretty Things)

Pretty Things


Excuse me please as I wipe a tear
Away from an eye that sees there's nothing left to trust;
Finding that their minds are grey
And there's no sorrow in the world that's left to trust.

     Sitting on top of a white cloud
     Looking round for someone there to trust.
     Changing your mind as you go through time
     You grasp at straws,
     There are written laws that say you must.

With tired eyes you follow the man
That has in his hand a banner that says 'dust to dust'.
Finding that his mind's gone wrong
And there's no sorrow in the world that's left to trust.


          Going away in the morning
          You're seen walking.
          You're going away, away
          Going away.
          As the sun is rising
          You're seen walking.
          You’re going away, away
          Going away.

[Repeat 1st verse]


Had Sebastian F. Sorrow had someone to console him in the loss of his beloved perhaps he would not have reached the place we find him in the song Trust. But there is no one to meet him in his sorrow that is only made deeper when confronted with an uncaring world. The lyric seems to state that to lose love is to lose trust in humanity and in oneself. Having lost that trust, Sebastian may fake it (as it is a “written law” that one “must” in order to get by in society), but every sunrise seems to only mark another day closer to his death. Nothing is constant in life; Sebastian grasps at straws for meaning until he wearies of the exercise and his mind turns grey with indifference.

The melody of the A section is made of a vacillation between two tones, similar to the I am he as you are we as you are me and we are altogether in the Beatles’ I Am the Walrus. This vacillation is further emphasized by a sort of echo effect in which bitter couplets of the verse are repeated back in soft angelic harmonies. The B section is a bit more melodic and has rhythmic vocal accompaniment reminiscent of the psychedelic Beach Boys period. The C section is the most melodic, but the lyric is very simple, as if something Sebastian might repeat over and over to himself in an effort to feel better about a life of diminishing returns.

“Sitting on top of a white cloud” might conjure up visions of angels in heaven, but in context I believe it to be evocative of hallucinogenic vision turned sour. A necessary ingredient for changing the world through psychedelic consciousness had been a cosmic undifferentiated love. After losing to the violence of 1968 the promise of better living through chemical realization of peace, psychedelia became more and more aware of “bad trips” and the devastation to the soul that can be left behind when one becomes convinced that the cruel world will stubbornly remain cold despite one’s efforts to make it better.