"Aquamarine" is a song that took nearly a decade to write. It started back in college. My friends and I went to a concert. There was a band called Deas Veil. Kind of an indie rock band. The piano player was this beautiful girl. I couldn't tell you what she looked like, but I do remember one thing. Her eyes were this piercing blue. What we went on to call aquamarine. We all noticed this. A phrase that came to mind was, "Eyes just don't come in that color." We then decided that deserved to be a lyric. I couldn't really couldn't come up with a decent song. I then shifted the line to "Eyes just aren't made that way," and included it in my song "I'll Be Fine," from my first album.
Now, let's fast forward. I ended up figuring out what Aquamarine should be about. I had decided to stop writing break up songs. I wanted a more complex emotion. Why, after almost a decade, could I still remember these eyes, and what was a complicated emotion that I could use for a song?
I decided to write from a perspective of a man who was still hung up on a past lover. Not in a "I miss you and I want you back," way, but in a "I don't miss you, I don't want you back, but for some reason I can't get over you," way. The first verse has him realizing it's really late (or early) in the night, and he can't sleep. His throat hurts. We get the first chorus "Now, I know I will not forget you. But I can't see your face so clear anymore. But those eyes. Eyes just don't come in that color."
Verse 2 is later after another restless night. He wants to sleep so he can escape these emotions, but sleep brings dreams of these eyes. The second chorus adds "It's not that I can't NOT love you. I've all but moved on with my life for now. But those eyes, they haunt me still."
I think the point of the song was supposed to convey regret of some kind. Maybe he's not so much remembering the color of her eyes as much as he's remembering the hurt in said eyes that he caused. Maybe he's remembering how they could also pierce his soul. Maybe he's remembering the laughter in them. I always liked the idea that adult relationships end, sometimes for no other reason than they simply had nowhere else to go. Sometimes they run their course, and both parties know that, and leave mutually. But, once you've given a piece of your heart to someone, even after you've moved on, and no longer feel any form of attachment to them, they still have that piece of your heart. It's not a bad thing, it's just life.
"Aquamarine" is unique in it's arrangement. It's the only first song that has no other instrumentation outside of a guitar and voice. I wanted to convey a sense of loneliness. I didn't want a bunch of noise. I originally had it in a different key with my vocals jumping up an octave and breaking, but we decided it needed to be almost monotone. Another deep cut that most don't appreciate, but some have said it's their favorite. I don't perform it live often, but when I do I always enjoy the sense of quiet it creates.