Wait

This one, sadly, is not too hard to understand.

Simon is in his 80s. Many of those who began in music when he did are gone, and very many far before an age the average life expectancy statistics would have predicted. 

Further, many his age-- and some even younger-- have had to stop performing or recording because of some illness. 

Simon himself, in interviews for the Seven Psalms album, said that he lost the hearing in his left ear over the course of recording it, and can no longer perform onstage, at least not with a band. 

Nevertheless, he can still write, compose, and record; as he says in this song: "My hand's steady/ My mind is still clear." 

And, like Beethoven, he can still hear music in his mind, and synthesize new music from it. "I hear the ghost songs I own," he sings. Does he mean songs he owns the copyrights to, because he wrote them? Or the songs he owns recordings of? Likely the latter, given what he says next.

What is "ghostly" about them? They are probably not about ghosts, like "ghost stories" told around campfires. Are they by people who are gone? Are they songs that are simply unheard these days? Are they songs that people have heard of, but would not really be able to sing if you asked them to? 

He also says these songs are "jumpin', jivin', and moanin'," which makes me think of jazz. So it's possible that the songs are ghosts because the memory of them has faded. 

Then he seems to turn away from whomever (or Whomever) he is asking to wait, and-- for the chorus-- to turn toward his listener, to offer some advice and observations. First, he compares life to a "meteor," falling fast and burning brightly, a brief flash.  

He urges us to "let [our] eyes roam," and explore as a wanderer would. This could have gone the other way-- life being short, one might just as easily be advised to focus on a single goal and not get distracted. But Simon advises, "Go on, get distracted. There's a lot to see." 

Then comes one of his most poignant lines: "Heaven is beautiful/ It's almost like home." The key word here is "almost." Even Heaven itself cannot match the pleasures of home. Nevertheless. he urges-- now adopting a gospel verbiage-- "Children! Get ready!/ It's time to come home." 

A line ago, Heaven was not quite home. Now, it is "home." Well, it's going to be, so we might as well start calling it that now.

Last, Simon lays out two requests for how he wants to "transition" to... whatever is next. His first is that he wishes for a "dreamless transition." Most want to pass away while sleeping, but Simon is afraid of his dreams and what lurks in his subconscious mind. So he asks for a dreamless sleep, so he won't have to, in his final moments, be troubled by his "dark intuition."

This whole album, he has struggled with the idea of God and Heaven. He wants to believe because he craves the comfort he expects that will give him. But he also is a cynic and has a hard time believing. What if, at the last second, he has... doubt?

So for his second request, he asks for help. For someone to help him take that step across the final threshold. Now, he turns away from us and from God-- to his wife, Edie, to whom he has been married for 30 years now: "I need you here by my side/ My beautiful mystery guide." (It could also mean an angel, or that he is calling her one.)

The chorus repeats but this time, and we expect to hear, again (the word is repeated 4 times so far), "Wait."

Instead, we hear-- and this is the last word on the album-- "Amen." Of course. 

These were not songs, they were Psalms all along. They were prayers. And what do you say when a prayer is finished? "Amen."

The word's derivation is Hebrew, from a root meaning "faith." After a hearing a prayer, the listener replies, basically: "Faith." We have faith that the prayer just offered will be heard and received and accepted. 

Poet Dylan Thomas told us to "rage against the dying of a light." Simon is not raging, here. He is not begging or even bargaining. 

But he is asking. With calm dignity, he is praying for death to wait.

He is not ready to go-- and we are not ready for him to go, either.

May his prayer be granted. Amen.