June 18, 2019: “I’m Alive,” by Matt Halvorson

Hi. This is a song I sort of wrote to myself in early 2016 as I was emerging from some years of really struggling with depression. Being a father helped to save me, and so now this is a sort of Father's Day gift to myself. A reminder of the things that really define what it means to be alive, to feel alive.

I just rediscovered over the weekend this recording of a song I'd forgotten about. It was an unexpected joy to hear my son cooing as a baby in the background too, and to hear my since-departed dog Rowdy barking at the end. I hope you find some meaning in it as well.

Love,

Matt

“I’m Alive”

My son is dancing — he’s dancing to a sound that I am making, and it feels like I’m alive.

My son is throwing and I’m catching on this gift-wrapped golden day, and it feels like I’m alive.

I’ve been a thousand miles from anyone I’ve ever known, but now my past is washed white as snow.

My son is sleeping now — he’s sleeping on my shoulder in a dark room, and it feels like I’m alive.

My son is happy — he is happy on this gift-wrapped summer day, and it feels like I’m alive.

But I’ve been a thousand miles from anyone I ever knew, but now my past is washed white as snow.

Everything that ever happened before now feels like a game that I was playing without knowing why.

My son is dancing now — he’s dancing to the sounds that I am making, and it feels like I’ve been alive all this time.

Yeah, I’ve been alive all this time.
Here I’ve been alive all this time.
Yeah, I’ve been alive all this time.
Feels like I’m alive all the time.