You’ll Follow Me Down: the meaning of Skunk Anansie’s cry of pain

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Going down.
Raising up.

Survived
Tonight

Still breathing heavily.

You’ll Follow Me Down is the third single from the album Post orgasmic Chill, Skunk Anansie, 1999.

In this song Skin is wind, strong and big, priestess and narrator with a vital impact.

As you watch me crawl
You stand for more

It happens, sometimes, in life, to get hurt. It happens that you want to punish yourself in the wrong way, and you are unable to forgive yourself. It happens sometimes in life, in love. And sometimes it happens to drag those who love each other in their own severe prison.

You do so much harm in two. You consume yourself, and the more you do it, the more you are punishing yourself, the more you indulge in this masochistic game of self-destruction, looking for a way to delegitimate yourself.

You are in a tunnel without forgiveness, a tunnel without excuses. A tunnel of solitude.

I don’t want you, to forgive me,
You’ll follow me down

It’s the lament, the desperate scream of Skin. She already knows how it will end, She knows very well the game of the parties in this massacre, when you can’t see the end of the tunnel and you can only scream the pain up your throat. And then, somehow, the exit is there.

One in the other’s arms, it’s hart to tell what’s the rule and what’s the sin, what you were and what you’ve become, whether something brought us there or if we have arrived by ourselves in this spiral of pain. If we are that way or some of us transformed the other.

And you’re panic-stricken
Blood will thicken up
Tonight

And silence will tear you apart.

Fear: this old lady who loves to make fun of brilliant minds, who wants to decrypt the codes of the most profound intellects, puppetmaster of a theatre manipulated by her wise claws. She knows perfectly how to bring these hypnotized actors into the dangerous path of irrationality.

I don’t want you to forgive me. First, I have to forgive myself.

That’s what will happen after Skin’s scream of pain. Like a wounded beast, roaring and then rising up.

That’s how you win your battle.

As your emotions fool you, (my) strong will rule

I won’t feel restraint, watching you close sense down,
I can’t compensate, that’s more than I’ve got to give.

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