“Mayday, somebody save me now! I’m closing my eyes ’cause once the sun rises it’s out of my hands.”
I am a David Cook fan. As you may have guessed, the line above is from the eargasmic opening track of his sophomore album “This Loud Morning” entitled “Circadian”. If you wanna know more about Circadian, feel free to consult Google or Wikipedia because I don’t have the patience to tell you what it means! Haha! (Well, if you guessed that I also don’t know what it means, then you’re a good Nostradamus.)
Enough with the corny formalities! So, what’s so inspiring about this song that it pushed me to write something about it? And, hell, I even attempted to record my own cover of it!
Reality sucks, and dreams don’t. Some of you will even attest that nightmares are sometimes more pleasurable than having to wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning just to face problems that you can never escape! This is what the song is all about.
When things come undone and with no shoulder to lean on, the next best thing is to be embraced by your blanket and lean on your soft pillow. Their cloth will wipe your tears of grief, as you scream for help. You pray that for eight hours, everything will be okay. The quiet night can be the sanctuary that the loud morning cannot be. This is the escape one needs before facing the painful realities.
“The light pulls me under and I keep on caving in!”
The short yet ever-so-powerful bridge blasted with distorted guitars clearly embody the nocturnal point in time when you can’t sleep because of your thoughts, but you force yourself to close your eyes and throw it all out of your hands.
You can’t sleep.
The clock still ticks.
The loud morning you don’t wanna face bothers you like hell.
“Somebody save me… now.”
Your plea for help echoes through your mind as your pillow and blanket serve as your confidant. Then it all ends.
The quiet night welcomes you to your dreams of reality.