Bởi Circlejourney circlejourney Bandcamp circlejourney SoundCloud Circlejourney YouTube circlejourneyart Tumblr circlejourney Twitter circlejourney.net Khác machinasolis SoundCloud ← Memorialisation Bài hát trước đó bởi tác giả này → Summer Heat (Instrumental) Bài hát tiếp theo bởi tác giả này.
Được phát hành lúc 30/3/2021.
Thời lượng: 3:30.

Nghe tại Bandcamp, YouTube, Spotify hoặc Apple Music.

Đọc tại chú thích của tác giả.

Bài hát có liên hệ đến Year In, Year Out:

trong Beyond:

• Year In, Year Out (Instrumental) bởi Circlejourney

Lời bài hát:

Year in, year out
Learn to live without, oh
What stays, what's true
Seasons pull me from you
'Cause

I'm moving, you knew it
Years fearing this minute
A planet, a comet
I break from your orbit

I take my heart and fold it
Move out to the cold
Out of your city
Out of your world

By the time I see you
Will I still know your face
By the time we meet
Amid the stardust and space
I would rather be
About any other place
That is closer
One of these years
One of these days

Year in, year out
What do we even talk about, oh
The heat, the moon
The sound of birds in the afternoon
'Cause

Three autumns, three winters
Of stories in letters
Three springs and three summers
Lose track of the numbers

Where's the line
When do I
Pass the point
When should I say goodbye?

'Cause
By the time I see you
Will I still know your face
By the time we meet
Amid the stardust and space
I would rather be
About any other place
That is closer
One of these days

'Cause
By the time I see you
Will I still know your face (still know your face)
By the time we meet
Amid the stardust and space (stardust and space)
I would rather be
About any other place (any other place)
That is closer
One of these years
One of these days

Year in, year out
Learn to live without, oh
What stays, what's true
Seasons pull me from you

Chú thích của tác giả cho Year In, Year Out:

Circlejourney ✑ booklet commentary

I’ll be honest, I get a little choked up every time I sing this song. It draws deeply on an emotion I’ve grown very familiar with over the past couple of years: of missing someone I used to be around all the time, and of drifting away.

I haven’t been home since February 2020—it’s been more than a year. I can’t help wondering how my home, family and friends have changed since I last saw them. If they’ll even feel like the same people when we next meet.

The shadow of the memory of being close to people I care about—a complex, multivalent thing—continues to loom over most of my waking hours. It is a bittersweet feeling: the relief of being untethered, stirred in with the quiet dread of time passing, of distance growing, when you’re looking away