This is about bronies. They communicate by stomping.
There's a thousand black cars
Driving around in my blood stream
I'd have to take a thousand pills
To find out where their headlights lead.
Is it cold New York?
Is it freezing in your bed?
Because I caught a deep chill
When I went over the Hudson again.
It's alright, counting city lights,
Where the Turnpike divides,
Waving goodbye to my former life.
I don't want to be a self-medicator
But it's hard to sleep when you're born to run.
I'm sick of living life in the Garden State Trap
But all the roads are pointing home again.
Holy Cross has got a headstone all picked out for me
And my only job is to walk around until I fall down at it's feet.
Maybe home is just the place you can never escape:
From the Camden City graves to the edge of the Palisades
It's alright, counting city lights,
Where the Turnpike divides,
Waving goodbye to my former life.
I don't want to be a self-medicator
But it's hard to sleep when you're born to run.
I'm sick of living life in the Garden State Trap
But all the roads are pointing home again.
And I'll be counting the city lights
Blinking on and off tonight as life passes by
And I'm left behind, standing on the shoulder of the Jersey Turnpike.
Buildings seem to rise like coffins full of stars getting buried in the sky.
You want to laugh and dance... to be free? Well, alright-----
I've been thinking about those days I wanted to sleep
And you'd wake me up just before you'd leave
And I'd fall back into a dream:
Walking in fresh city snow that you'd never seen
And I'd never leave your side.
Driving around in my blood stream
I'd have to take a thousand pills
To find out where their headlights lead.
Is it cold New York?
Is it freezing in your bed?
Because I caught a deep chill
When I went over the Hudson again.
It's alright, counting city lights,
Where the Turnpike divides,
Waving goodbye to my former life.
I don't want to be a self-medicator
But it's hard to sleep when you're born to run.
I'm sick of living life in the Garden State Trap
But all the roads are pointing home again.
Holy Cross has got a headstone all picked out for me
And my only job is to walk around until I fall down at it's feet.
Maybe home is just the place you can never escape:
From the Camden City graves to the edge of the Palisades
It's alright, counting city lights,
Where the Turnpike divides,
Waving goodbye to my former life.
I don't want to be a self-medicator
But it's hard to sleep when you're born to run.
I'm sick of living life in the Garden State Trap
But all the roads are pointing home again.
And I'll be counting the city lights
Blinking on and off tonight as life passes by
And I'm left behind, standing on the shoulder of the Jersey Turnpike.
Buildings seem to rise like coffins full of stars getting buried in the sky.
You want to laugh and dance... to be free? Well, alright-----
I've been thinking about those days I wanted to sleep
And you'd wake me up just before you'd leave
And I'd fall back into a dream:
Walking in fresh city snow that you'd never seen
And I'd never leave your side.
Lyrics submitted by Thursdaylove
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Bron-Y-Aur Stomp
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This song seemingly tackles the methods of deception those who manipulate others use to get victims to follow their demands, as well as diverting attention away from important issues. They'll also use it as a means to convince people to hate or kill others by pretending acts of terrorism were committed by the enemy when the acts themselves were done by the masters of control to promote discrimination and hate. It also reinforces the idea that these manipulative forces operate in various locations, infiltrating everyday life without detection, and propagate any and everywhere.
In general, it highlights the danger of hidden agendas, manipulation, and distraction, serving as a critique of those who exploit chaos and confusion to control and gain power, depicting a cautionary tale against falling into their traps. It encourages us to question the narratives presented to us and remain vigilant against manipulation in various parts of society.
Punchline
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Ed Sheeran sings about missing his former partner and learning important life lessons in the process on “Punchline.” This track tells a story of battling to get rid of emotions for a former lover, whom he now realized might not have loved him the same way. He’s now caught between accepting that fact and learning life lessons from it and going back to beg her for another chance.
Page
Ed Sheeran
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There aren’t many things that’ll hurt more than giving love a chance against your better judgement only to have your heart crushed yet again. Ed Sheeran tells such a story on “Page.” On this track, he is devastated to have lost his lover and even more saddened by the feeling that he may never move on from this.
Plastic Bag
Ed Sheeran
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“Plastic Bag” is a song about searching for an escape from personal problems and hoping to find it in the lively atmosphere of a Saturday night party. Ed Sheeran tells the story of his friend and the myriad of troubles he is going through. Unable to find any solutions, this friend seeks a last resort in a party and the vanity that comes with it.
“I overthink and have trouble sleepin’ / All purpose gone and don’t have a reason / And there’s no doctor to stop this bleedin’ / So I left home and jumped in the deep end,” Ed Sheeran sings in verse one. He continues by adding that this person is feeling the weight of having disappointed his father and doesn’t have any friends to rely on in this difficult moment. In the second verse, Ed sings about the role of grief in his friend’s plight and his dwindling faith in prayer. “Saturday night is givin’ me a reason to rely on the strobe lights / The lifeline of a promise in a shot glass, and I’ll take that / If you’re givin’ out love from a plastic bag,” Ed sings on the chorus, as his friend turns to new vices in hopes of feeling better.
I think this song could definitely be about Geoff coming back home to New Jersey, and saying goodbye to his former life. There's a lot of references to death, not as in the parting of the senses, but as in the death of a significant period in one's life. (black cars, headstone, coffin).
You can imagine Geoff passing over the Hudson into jersey at night (experiencing the unwelcoming chill of being back in a place he doesn't really want to be), and he's staring at the city lights and buildings, images that would usually be beautiful and all he can see is the death of his former life (the building seem to rise like coffins).
I think this is more personal of a song than Thursday has put out in a while so it really feels like it's about Geoff, but it could really be about anyone who has ever felt like they've made so much progress in life (grown up, left home, got married) and now they're back at home. Almost feels like taking one gigantic step backwards.