“Everything all the time”

I mean, it’s good to have something a bit on the highbrow side as an inspiration for Song Lyric Sunday every so often, but I hadn’t reckoned on an excursion into Sigmund Freud’s psychoanalytic theories as a theme for this week. More specifically, Jim is seeking a song about ‘exhibiting instinctual drives that seek immediate pleasure or gratification without regard for reality’.

And that, apparently is the id – and I rather think I may have one. I hope so, anyway: because as presented in those words it sounds like it might be fun, albeit not without a downside.

Believe it or not, this very ordinary bloke has always tried to live by the principle of ‘carpe diem‘ and taken a (purely) vicarious interest in what is often called the rock and roll lifestyle. Ah me.

Anyway, this song by The Eagles seems apposite.

He was a hard-headed man,
He was brutally handsome,
And she was terminally pretty
She held him up,
And he held her for ransom
In the heart of the cold, cold city

He had nasty reputation as a cruel dude
They said he was ruthless, said he was crude
They had one thing in common, they were good in bed
She’d say, “Faster, faster. The lights are turnin’ red.”

Life in the fast lane
Surely make you lose your mind
Life in the fast lane

Are you with me so far?

Eager for action,
Hot for the game
The coming attraction,
The drop of a name

They knew all the right people,
They took all the right pills
They threw outrageous parties,
They paid heavenly bills

There were lines on the mirror,
Lines on her face
She pretended not to notice,
She was caught up in the race

Out every evening,
Until it was light
He was too tired to make it,
She was too tired to fight about it

Life in the fast lane
Surely make you lose your mind
Life in the fast lane
Life in the fast lane,
Everything all the time
Life in the fast lane

Blowin’ and burnin’,
Blinded by thirst
They didn’t see the stop sign,
Took a turn for the worst

She said, “Listen, baby. You can hear the engine ring.
We’ve been up and down this highway; haven’t seen a goddamn thing.”

He said, “Call the doctor. I think I’m gonna crash.”
“The doctor say he’s comin’, but you gotta pay him cash.”

They went rushin’ down that freeway,
Messed around and got lost
They didn’t care they were just dyin’ to get off and it was…

Written by Glenn Frey, Don Henley and Joe Walsh

Song Lyric Sunday 29 March 2026