I believe this is another amazingly on point and nuanced commentary on the insanity that follows emotionally abusive relationships. The abuser has no anxieties, no emotional pain, or salience/memory for that matter, so the survivor appears to be the crazy one, obsessed with the abuse and that buzzword that seems to ignite arguments about diagnosing people without a degree, etc. funny how you say the words domestic violence, abuse, abuse survivor and boom the subject changes. Anyways, I especially relate to her midnights becoming afternoons, complex PTSD often leads to this phenomenon, whether due to purposeful sleep deprivation by the abuser, or just hyper vigilance associated with the PTSD, along with the fear of facing people, especially your loved ones, who
Never actually understand, even if they try, because all they see is you, on fire, screaming about the arsonist that no one ever sees, and who has been spreading lies about your alleged mental instability, deceptive personality, etc. the whole time. While the last thing survivors need is more blame, our society supports a narrative that blames the objectively innocent party because the blatantly guilty party has spent their entire lives fabricating a persona and we’re just being human, and human psychology is quite counterintuitive especially in the context of trauma. Look at Amber Heard. Vilified and not believed, regardless of what any abuse survivor could recognize as a fellow survivor instantly. But Johnny depp is a malignant narcissist, a man, and wealthy as all get out. It’s sick.
Overhead the albatross
Hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves
In labyrinths of coral caves
The echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine
And no one showed us to the land
And no one knows the where's or why's
But something stirs and something tries
And starts to climb toward the light
Strangers passing in the street
By chance, two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand the best I can?
And no one calls us to move on
And no one forces down our eyes
No one speaks and no one tries
No one flies around the sun
Cloudless everyday
You fall upon my waking eyes
Inviting and inciting me to rise
And through the window in the wall
Come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning
And no one sings me lullabies
And no one makes me close my eyes
So I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky
Hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves
In labyrinths of coral caves
The echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine
And no one showed us to the land
And no one knows the where's or why's
But something stirs and something tries
And starts to climb toward the light
Strangers passing in the street
By chance, two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand the best I can?
And no one calls us to move on
And no one forces down our eyes
No one speaks and no one tries
No one flies around the sun
Cloudless everyday
You fall upon my waking eyes
Inviting and inciting me to rise
And through the window in the wall
Come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning
And no one sings me lullabies
And no one makes me close my eyes
So I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky
Lyrics submitted by Demau Senae, edited by Undinal, patient957, tillyny, 1Bigdawg, Nmlgc, TomCrown, neeraj1030, Madanmohan, Blake614, importrade, tomslyrics123, ProppJoe
Echoes Lyrics as written by George Waters David Gilmour
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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Mary
Okay I have listened to the song with your interpretation and I have a few lines to back your theory up:
"And no one called us to the land and no one knows the where's or why's"
These should be the primitive forms of life where they had no awareness or conscious.
"No one speaks and no one tries
No one flies around the sun."
These could be the neanderthalers AKA the primitive humans, The fact that they don't fly around the sun means that they have no knowledge about flying around the sun (because in fact you always fly around the sun) so they have no science or anything of that sort. The only thing that bothers me is the sentence "No one crosses there alive"
... JUST enough to stay conscious enough to think of it.
I don't understand why the musical break is so anxious compared to the very positive and floating lyrics, though...
"And no one called us to the land
And no one knows the where's or why's.
Something stirs and something tries
Starts to climb toward the light."
This early in life's history nothing else existed but these deep sea creatures, but some how they made it up towards the light, allowing endless diversity to form. The early creatures experienced a long process of evolution until we end up with us and the world as we know it.
The two strangers are bth part of this long unfolding chain of events, and are thus essentially one. "I am you and what I see is me"
"Almost everyday you fall
Upon my waking eyes,
Inviting and inciting me
To rise.
And through the window in the wall
Come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning."
This is again referring to sunlight. The "million bright ambassadors of morning" are photons of light. They reach us each morning, and not only drive us out of bed, but are ultimately responsible for the energy that organizes our cells and keeps us thinking and moving.
This is a progression of someone searching for who they are and finding it in their new found significant other.
After 11 years of marriage, some of which I consider less-than-successful, I now have a new found appreciate for my wife. She's proved herself to be the most fiercely loyal friend I could hope for and I couldn't ask for a better companion. The 3rd verse has become my favorite. She is the angel I wake to every day, and the Lord be with the person that ever decides they need to try and take her away from me!
This is a progression of someone searching for who they are and finding it in their new found significant other.
After 11 years of marriage, some of which I consider less-than-successful, I now have a new found appreciation for my wife. She's proven herself to be the most fiercely loyal friend I could hope for and I couldn't ask for a better companion. The 3rd verse has become my favorite. She is the angel I wake to every day, and the Lord be with the person that ever decides they need to try and take her away from me!
Even in P.F. there were thoughts of 'the beginning of life', everyone has. It was how to put it to verse. This was rather magnificent along with the (Dinosaurs or woman's orgasm?) screaming guitar 2/3 the way through.
The ending, Dave's guitar grinding, 'winding down' your visions... and you're back to (current) realities.
The pinging sonar I imagined more as a sign of life, and, as the song progresses, it becomes more of a searching. It is as though the pinging is some attempt to contact something... or, more likely: touch something, reach something. Sonar is simply the act of sending out a sound wave to bounce off something. Are we not so ourselves? How we present ourselves every day we live, is it not how we make our attempt to ping others around us, so as not to feel alone in this mysterious existence?
The first stanza in each of the three chunks gives us a solid state of humanity: past, present, and future. These things make up our sense of self: what has been, what we are and what we have been made, and what we hope to be; what we will be.
Our obscure and humbling origins lay buried and subtly crawling upward to the light of our consciousness, trying to show us what we really are: the struggle to understand the long-buried truth of what came before.
Our busy-bodied, punitive civilized existence drowns us in a crowd of people we don't know who are pushing past us, telling us to shut up and move along, or just ignoring you. We are distracted from these thoughts by our survivalist lifestyle. What luck brings us is the chance to meet some of the people in our world, and in these people we will strive together to understand some portion of this existence: past, present and future. Whether or not we understand these things, they will always stay with us: they are inextricably intertwined with us.
For a good 6 minutes there is a long conceptual instrumental, where the echoes of the past seem mysterious, and we get lost again and wander through the mysterious depths of the has-been, caked in the dust of the now. But then we hear a ping again, our peers calling to us, or an attempt for us to contact someone, while we're buried and overwhelmed by the horrifically gargantuan task of combing through the past, present and future. When we're crushed by the immensity of the universe, humanity, and our own lives, the only thing to perk up our eyes and ears again is the ping of another, else we're lost in the ambient echo of all that was or could've been, but was not.
In the companionship or the love we create for ourselves, we find solace. Our best friends, our family, our lovers, our pals, our blood brothers, our twins; the people that are burned into our memories and that stay with us invite us into the day, and all those that came before, all the is now, and whatever may lie ahead on the great, infinitely-spinning loom on the tapestry of time shines into our waking eyes and invites us to go out to the window and scream -- call to the future and to all our fellow humans; call to life and love.