The music was unmatched for the situation and the thoughts presently running through my head. The song opens with a mildly haunting whistle, quite stark, particularly when juxtaposed with the closing of the preceding song. The bag I cradled in my arms was of about the weight of a small cat. The situation reminded me of one evening in the October school holidays of 1994. My cat had been behaving oddly for the day leading up to it, and had reached the end of her dignified life. I was taken, holding the cat, to my vet-uncle's surgery to find out what was wrong with her, and, as it turned out, to have her put down. We returned home with her body, packaged in a large coarse paper bag similar to the one I held. Needless to say, I, a child closely attached to his cat cradled the bag with her within.
The package I held reignited these memories quite thoroughly, all within the opening 30 seconds of the song. Shortly, mildly tribal, heavily Joy Division influenced drums entered, accompanied by Bird singing the lyrics "When I was just a little boy/I threw all away all of my action toys." These lyrics rang somewhat poignantly with my then present train of thought, that of dead childhood cats.
The drums, guitarwork, pizzicato violins, whistling and vocals continued to waver their way around one another, stark and rich in such quick succession it is difficult to separate them from one another within the song, creating the illusion of their simultaneous yet opposite existence. The song crashes in places with the violence and abruptness of a dead pet, and haunts with a sad childhood memory all the while forging a smooth organic and heartfelt collection of sound. The irrelevant cinematic aspect aside, walking home at night, reminiscing is well accompanied by Mr Bird.