Lone Gunmen

Tonight I am listening to a sequence of songs that somehow, for no obvious reason, reminds me of the phrase 'Lone Gunmen'.

From Eleanor Rigby, The Beatles:

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

From Let It Be, The Beatles:

And when the broken hearted people
Living in the world agree,
There will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be parted there is
Still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be.

From State of Grace, Billy Joel:

There you go, slipping away into a state of grace
I know the look that comes across your face
It's so familiar to me
Here I am, trying to keep you in my line of sight
I'm never certain that you read me right
Sometimes you don't want to see me...

From America, Paul Simon & Art Garfunkel:

"Toss me a cigarette, I think there's one in my raincoat"
"We smoked the last one an hour ago"
So I looked at the scenery, she read her magazine
And the moon rose over an open field

"Kathy, I'm lost," I said, though I knew she was sleeping
I'm empty and aching and I don't know why
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
They've all gone to look for America...

This was followed by ABBA's Eagle and St Etienne's Milk Bottle Symphony. There is a certain colour of loneliness, somewhere in the long wavelengths beyond the microwaves, where the sea edges towards flatness and the frequency approaches never. Somewhere out there is the null, the opposite of singularity. And maybe, there is a lone gunman.