Singled Out: Mother Falcon's Alligator Teeth

We were in 4th period orchestra class. Nick Calvin at that time was sitting right behind me. The class had just stopped for a brief break when Nick decided to fiddle around. I remember that moment still, the hell bent notes coming from his cello. "Stop it there," I said," I liked that. Keep it going." I proceeded to play what would be the accompanying melody. We would work on it periodically, and, two months later, wrapped in tuxedos and winter Texas air before the season's final concert, the jamming finally became a song.

Around that time, I was in my final stages of high school. I started to see stretch marks in the friendships made during middle and high school. I had gone through a typical bad breakup with a high school sweetheart that left all our friendships severed and unraveled. Everyone, including myself, just didn't seem who they had been growing up.

The lyrics deal with this theme in the beginning on a physical level, and, with the song, progress to a mental, dream-like state. The clapping at the end is the 'pinch yourself to wake up' impulse before realizing the ephemerality of this moment--the undermined relationships, the false assumptions. A smile might just be a smile, might just be a billboard to cover the sadness; or it might be filled with alligator teeth, sharp and ready. In that first moment of realization, it could go either way.