It was written just after I’d returned from my sister’s funeral in Hawaii. I lived in this weird little house in Echo Park, and my landlady, a very old woman named Francis, lived right next door. I had told her I was leaving town for a few days, but I didn’t say anything about my sister dying or why I was going on the trip.

The day I returned, Francis saw me getting out of the taxi in front of my house and she came over to my door immediately after I’d walked in. “Um, E… I don’t know if you know this about me, but I see apparitions.” I didn’t know this.

“And I thought you should know that while you were gone I saw a young woman walk into your house.”

Initially this frightened me. Francis had no idea my sister had just committed suicide and she’s telling me she saw the ghost of a young woman walk into my house. In an effort to get to sleep and feel less spooked that night I imagined that it was my sister coming by for a friendly goodbye, that it wasn’t something to think of as scary. That my sister and I had a real connection and it didn’t have to end. That I could still feel that connection by singing about her and from her point of view. And that I could give her an artistic voice and let people know what it was like for her. It worked. I wasn’t spooked any more. I was inspired. Just thinking about it now gives me goosebumps.

We made a song about my sister stopping by to say goodbye, and I still like the song.
– Mark Oliver Everett

[A more detailed account of this and other tales can be found in Everett’s book Things the Grandchildren Should Know.]