This is someone who has been left. It's a dual narrative - what he's saying and what he's thinking - the repetitive references to what it is to be a 'man'- to hold one's feelings inside, to push away, to pretend everything is alright, to downplay the pain and to fight against the wish to break down. He's prepared to be cruel - 'I could never point you out' to get her to walk away and not pity him, but when 'walls come down' he's as broken and vulnerable as anyone - 'You tore out my heart' is sung so bluntly and raggedly almost out of nowhere; and then the tone shifts to something really raw and magnetic. It's part of the existential struggle to love and to lose and to try again anyway … well, that's what I think, and I love it.
This is someone who has been left. It's a dual narrative - what he's saying and what he's thinking - the repetitive references to what it is to be a 'man'- to hold one's feelings inside, to push away, to pretend everything is alright, to downplay the pain and to fight against the wish to break down. He's prepared to be cruel - 'I could never point you out' to get her to walk away and not pity him, but when 'walls come down' he's as broken and vulnerable as anyone - 'You tore out my heart' is sung so bluntly and raggedly almost out of nowhere; and then the tone shifts to something really raw and magnetic. It's part of the existential struggle to love and to lose and to try again anyway … well, that's what I think, and I love it.