One of the songs that overwhelms my soul is “Homesick” by Sleeping At Last. The lyrics, paired with the melancholy vocals and the bright twang of a ukulele perfectly encapsulates a yearning for the innocence, joy, and simplicity of childhood. This song allows me to kneel on the earth of my heart and dig up the emotions I had buried for so long.

The song begins with the lyrics:

you spend your whole life

just to remember the sound

when the world was brighter

before we learned to dim it down

I often notice myself missing the times when I wasn’t so afraid, when I laughed more and cried less. Now, after disappointment and many failures, I have learned to dim down the world to keep myself safe, because the light was too much for the darkness inside me to handle.

call it survival

call it the freedom of wills

Sometimes, as children grow up, we teach them to stop dreaming, stop hoping. We call it the freedom of wills, when in reality they gave up because we were constantly telling them they should.

if love’s elastic then were we born to test its reach?

is it buried treasure

or just a single puzzle piece?

it’s poison ivy

beneath our brave and trusting feet

Much of our life is spent trying to understand love. Is it conditional or unconditional? Does it change or does it stay the same? As we grow, we search and search for love. Somehow we never seem to find X or the missing puzzle piece that would make everything clear. When we do find love, we find that it was a façade or that it doesn’t last or that it makes our heart break.We find that when we touch love, we always discover pain.

At the end of the song, he sings:

cry wolf, cry mercy

cry the name of the one you were raised to believe

cry hard, cry yourself to sleep

cry a storm of tears if it helps you breathe

if it helps you

if it helps you breathe

When our heart shatters, we cry out to anything that we think will save us. We learn to grasp onto anything that will keep us alive. Anything that will help us breathe, if only for a moment. We yearn for a connection, for hope, for love, for what we once had but is now gone, snatched away by the hands of the universe. And we are alone. If we could only go back to how things used to be, to how we used to be, then, we would be okay.

You know that song

The one you let listen to you

The one that's always on your mind

Because he's the one inside of it

The song he picked out

Because it reminded him of you

The song you found when he left

The lyrics incantations you chant to bring him back

The vibrations straying from the bass his heartbeat

The one song where the falsetto is the truth of cries.

That song you sing from your eyes and not your mouth.

At this time, the one song I cannot get out of my head is driving me bonkers!

I hear it in my head in the morning as the sun kisses the clouds awake.

Still I hear it playing along as I have my tea out on the patio.

Yet again when all is quiet, those beautiful notes playing the sweet melody and when I shut my eyes I can picture beautiful swans dancing on a blue lake together to the elegant air of this exceptional piece.

This is one I love to write to.

"Au clair de la lune,
Mon ami Pierrot,
Prête-moi ta plume
Pour écrire un mot.
Ma chandelle est morte,
Je n'ai plus de feu.
Ouvre-moi ta porte
Pour l'amour de Dieu."

Au clair de la lune,
Pierrot répondit :
"Je n'ai pas de plume,
Je suis dans mon lit.
Va chez la voisine,
Je crois qu'elle y est,
Car dans sa cuisine
On bat le briquet."

Au clair de la lune,
L'aimable Lubin;
Frappe chez la brune,
Elle répond soudain :
–Qui frappe de la sorte?
Il dit à son tour :
–Ouvrez votre porte,
Pour le Dieu d'Amour.

Au clair de la lune,
On n'y voit qu'un peu.
On chercha la plume,
On chercha du feu.
En cherchant d'la sorte,
Je n'sais c'qu'on trouva;
Mais je sais qu'la porte
Sur eux se ferma.

"By the light of the moon,

My friend Pierrot,

Lend me your quill

To write a word.

My candle is dead,

I have no light left.

Open your door for me

For the love of God."

By the light of the moon,

Pierrot replied:

"I don't have any pens,

I am in my bed

Go to the neighbor's,

I think she's there

Because in her kitchen

Someone is lighting the fire."

By the light of the moon

Likeable Lubin

Knocks on the brunette's door.

She suddenly responds:

– Who's knocking like that?

He then replies:

– Open your door

for the God of Love!

By the light of the moon

One could barely see.

The pen was looked for,

The light was looked for.

With all that looking

I don't know what was found,

But I do know that the door

Shut itself on them.

https://soundcloud.com/claude-debussy-official/moonlight-claire-de-lune-from

Slow, rhythmic strumming of an acoustic guitar caresses your soul until a harmonica tugs, pulling it right out of your body. A female voice begins to sing: "The night is when," she starts. You don't need to hear anymore. But you want to, you have to. Ok, you need to. You NEED to. That moment of sharp contrast when the harmonica trills sends you to shivers, a tingling matched only by the sheer, raw emotion being forced upon you. Alone, alone. All you feel is alone. "This bed is like a prison cell," she hums. How did you know? How could she know? Beautiful, dreadful solitude, bottled up in chord and immortalized in the hinted quiver nestled in her voice. You feel comforted in experiencing the terror of loneliness in such a foreign way: so plainly stated, yet so dressed in disguise. Are the prison cells real? Does she speak of a real cage, or is the final verse true: "my head is like a prison cell," she tells you.

Me too, Taylor.

It’s not simple to say,

that most days I don’t recognize me

Though I’m no pregnant waitress with an abusive husband, the song, “She Used To Be Mine,” from the Broadway Musical Waitress, moves me to tears every time I listen to it. When I am out driving by myself, I will put this song on repeat and BELT out the lyrics.

She’s imperfect, but she tries

She is good, but she lies

She is hard on herself

She is broken and won’t ask for help

She is messy, but she’s kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine

Is it bad that I’m singing it in my head as I type it out? While I may not be the character this song was written for, there are aspects of the song that really hit home with me.

I would definitely recommend giving the song a listen!

I felt in love with Passenger the moment I explored their other titles beyond Let her go. If there is one standard for good music that I hold true through the passage of time, it's originality. Intriguing melody, narrative and poetic lyrics. Usually as unambiguous as language can be, song lyrics, especially for love songs, can be devoid of any creativity to the extreme of repeating the same words over and over but changing the tune. When I read Passenger's lyrics, the melody resonates within me whether I called on it or not. It's very often a simple, but playfully harmonious ensemble, with a powerful life message shining through this apparent plainness. This makes for the best quotes: "Oh son, you may be lost in more ways than one/But I have a feeling that it's more fun/Than knowing exactly where you are" This was my senior yearbook quote. Another one: "Ain't it funny how the kids walk by/They'll do anything to make themselves look older/While the women spend their money/On anything that makes them look young" This idea comes back again in another song called I hate: "Just grow old with grace/Have you seen Cher's face/It looks like it's been hit by a truck" Ok, I agree, this was gratuitous pettiness, but used for comical effect. Go check out the song, you'll see what I mean. One last one: "Don't you cry for the lost/Smile for the living/Get what you need and give what you're given/Life's for the living so live it/Or you're better off dead". The title is in the chorus. That's another great one, the repetition of the chorus is given a reason to exist within the narrative of the song in a truly fluid manner, and it's profoundly enjoyable to listen to. I hope I've given a bit more visibility to some lesser-known songs of the group Passenger beyond the very famous hit Let her go. Enjoy!

The song that you listen to when the sun is out

or when the rain pours

When you're in your happiest moments

or curled up in bed crying your eyes out

Don't be scared, I'm right here

I'll whisper softly in your year that

You'll be just fine

Life is so scary right now, with all the chaos and uncertainty looming over us.

We've lost jobs, we can't pay rent, we can't meet with friends. We are isolated in our houses, unable to escape unless we need "essentials"... but ony if we can afford them.

Cuz winds will come, and they will blow

They'll try to shake you but I know that

You'll be just fine

Thinking back to those moments where you felt so weak,

you feel so weak now. The world is crumbling around you

There is decay that follows your every move

Don't cry, precious love of mine

She calls me precious. She calls ME precious.

And loved. Wanted.

Don't cry, I'm right by your side

She is willing to stand by me in the darkest of times, in the brightest of times.

Her words seeping into my soul like the comforting hug you wanted but never knew you needed. When you feel like a touch could break you, she cradles you with her melodic voice and tells you those words you needed to hear from your mom. From your best friend. From your love.

I'll be right here

Whenever you need me let your faith defeat your fear

Whenever you feel alone, just know

That I'm right here.