"Just Another Day"
Morning alone
When you come home
I breath a little faster
Every time we're together
It'd never be the same
If you're not here
How can you stay away, away so long.
Why can't we stay together
Give me a reason
Give me a reason.
[Chorus]
I, I don't wanna say it
I don't wanna find another way
Make it through the day without you
It's just another day
Making the time
Find the right lines
What do I have to tell you
I'm just trying to hold on to something
(Trying to hold on to something good)
Give us a chance to make it.
Don't wanna hold on to never
I'm not that strong
I'm not that strong.
I, I don't wanna say it
I don't wanna find another way
Make it through the day without you
I, I can't resist
Trying to find exactly what I miss
It's just another day without you.
Why can't you stay forever
Just give me a reason
Give me a reason.
[Chorus repeats]
Do singers depict the experiences of others?
What does make a Song a successful one? Is it ability to cope with each listener's condition? Or its power to alleviate his resident state?
Was Secada singing me in his song?
Why I used to obsessively write the title of the song and the name of the singer on every paper or wall or table?
Suddenly, I noticed how this favorable song for the Cuban singer, Jon Secada, is singing an important and a prolonged part of my life. Truly, in most of my relations (I do not want to say all in order not to sound pessimistic), separation was one major element.
Is it because I do not ask for much?
Is it because I do not pressure the partner?
Is it because I do not plead for my natural rights?
I am facing everything alone, and I may not be able to carry on.
Receiving all the blows, saying all those good-byes, repeating the same encouraging words, saluting, welcoming, packing for others their tiny things, reminding them of what may have slipped from their memory, … and after all .. “making through the day without you’ and without others!!
“How can you stay away for so long?”
Just tell me how?
How can you when you are my breath I breathe every morning; when you are my pillow I sleep at night; when you are the ink I dip in the fountain pen to write; when you are the bread I luncheon on; when you are among my whispers, and in my murmurs; when you are everything that makes me someone!
Is it because I do not ask for much?
Is it because I do not pressure the partner?
Is it because I do not plead for my natural rights?
I am facing everything alone, and I may not be able to carry on.
Receiving all the blows, saying all those good-byes, repeating the same encouraging words, saluting, welcoming, packing for others their tiny things, reminding them of what may have slipped from their memory, … and after all .. “making through the day without you’ and without others!!
“How can you stay away for so long?”
Just tell me how?
How can you when you are my breath I breathe every morning; when you are my pillow I sleep at night; when you are the ink I dip in the fountain pen to write; when you are the bread I luncheon on; when you are among my whispers, and in my murmurs; when you are everything that makes me someone!
2 comments:
I experienced the same thing many times. Listening to a song, I used to feel that it was written for me. It expresses so well my state of mind that it suits me very well. Actually I wrote about such instances in my blog.
But I guess that many people feel the same.
The lyricists have their own agenda of course. They write about their own experiences. After all, we're fellow humans, and we share similar longings and yearnings. So it happens that we meet on familiar grounds. We identify ourselves in their words.
Same thing happens with poetry I guess.
Wherever there is feeling... someway, somehow... other human beings will recognize their place in it.
Exactly.
It is just as you have just stated.
We tend to identify ourselves with others' lyrics, tunes, and other works of art.
We read all .. we listen to all, we view millions of things .. but we only make a stop whenever something meets our souls .. copies our feelings .. and recites our thoughts.
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