The Great Divide (The Last Of The Bugs) – Noah Kahan

The Great Divide: The Last Of The Bugs invites us into the still troubled mind of Noah Kahan. Taking us on a roller coaster of emotions and perspectives of those Noah holds close to him. We explore crushing themes of guilt, resentment, and love that Noah has towards these same people essentially teaching us to feel it all. This sad sad man has done it again quite poetically I might add. Let’s talk about what it all means.

End of August

The faint grand piano twinkle and woodsy silence tells us that this will be a record exploding with depression. Noah’s voice opens softly and brings us into the classic car ride that he often describes in his music, and the familiarity of heading home once again settles in. The line “If these trees started talking, I bet you they’d only talk shit” is so similar yet so opposite to the line in Maine claiming “If only baby there were cameras in the traffic lights, they’d make me a star,” and that switch up in the tone of the car is something we continue to notice as more music is released. The tone in “Maine” is optimistic and hungry for fame, while The Great Divide carries crippling themes of imposter syndrome and guilt for fame. Anyways, back to why the trees would be “talking shit,” Noah admits that he is a bullshitter in that “We never do anything real, we just talk about it,” calling himself out and questioning his own intentions. The mention of the “End of August” becomes symbolic for the world continuing to turn no matter what, where things stay the same and people do not change, shown through “the bugs dying,” “neighbors voting for someone who wins every time,” and his repeated attempts to get sober that fall back into the same cycle of giving up. The piano builds back in and bursts into the matter of fact chorus that tells us nothing in his hometown really changes, the seasons shift, the lakes freeze, the bugs die, and while it feels negative, Noah also claims that he will not change either, at least in the ways that matter, he will always be there for the people he loves and will drop anything for them. He sings “I know the traffic light, you can speed right by, cause the camera’s down,” which makes us question if he even cares about those traffic lights making him a star anymore, showing how much his mindset has shifted. The breakdown layers lyrics in a way that feels like a montage of Noah’s changing behavior, especially with “The minute that September hits, I’m going off my medicine,” keeping us stuck in that cycle where he just wants to feel again, moving between trying to get better and wanting to abandon it all. The bridge shows the ins and outs of his mind and his perspective on the town and the people in it, the kids who are raised there and the ones who stay and continue the same patterns. Aside from the heavy realization that everything is a cycle, Noah still finds comfort in it, knowing that the seasonal and normal depression eventually passes, and there is something really beautiful about the idea of the town still being “ours.”

Doors

The tune that was teased so casually before the album dropped that made everyone realize this was going to be a big one. “Doors” by Noah Kahan begins with a flashback into Noah’s childhood, immediately setting up a version of him that feels uneasy and hard to ignore. He describes a moment that carries an innocent touch of violence, admitting “I’d hurt anyone I could,” referring to pushing away the people who actually cared about him. He leans into this malcontented attitude he used to have toward someone who wanted to be close to him, saying “You were unsuspecting, not unwarned,” almost warning them that he is “the trouble ahead.” He truly believes he is bad for anyone pure enough to “knock” and willingly enter his life. The chorus screams with insecurity as he begs for forgiveness for the fact that he is naturally not trusting of others, spiraling through all the “reasons you should pack all your shit up” and leave him. The finishing line “I just live here, babe, but you’re the one who decided to knock” ties everything together, turning his mind into a house that someone chose to enter. This is a metaphor he constantly uses, especially in “Come Over” where he describes “the eyes are the windows, the garage is the mouth,” reinforcing the idea that his mind is something physical that people step into. Nevertheless, by blaming this person for “knocking,” he avoids taking responsibility for the damage he might cause, acting like they knew what they were getting into. The chorus repeats that he “keeps showing them doors” to leave, yet they stay, trapping him in this cycle where he pushes people away while also not understanding why they continue to choose him.

American Cars

This one opens with a clean open strum that immediately puts us in the car with Noah, riding down country highways and thinking. American Cars by Noah Kahan starts with him saying he is planning “to disappear completely,” bringing back that recurring thought that maybe it would not matter if he removed himself from everyone’s life, that they might be better off without him. He brings in his drinking again, almost joking that if it were a real job he would be “asking for more money,” but it really just highlights how deep that habit runs. The pre chorus shifts into how he thinks people back home see him, driving a new fancy car that does not feel like him, wearing expensive sunglasses, looking like someone who has changed, and even if they believe that, they are still just grateful that he comes back at all. The chorus is loud and emotional, and it feels like it is coming from the people in his life who rely on him, almost needing him to return over and over again because he is the one who holds everything together, appreciating that no matter what he always comes running when they ask. The next verse feels like it shifts into the perspective of a concerned family member, someone who feels guilty for needing him but still believes he is the only one who can fix things, describing the father sitting on the porch getting worse by the day and the tension between his parents building. The line “that dinner time silence” paints that awkward, heavy family moment where nothing is said but everything is felt, and in those moments it feels like everyone is just waiting for Noah to come back and fix it. The bridge turns into a string of complaints and quiet pleas for help, showing how much is actually resting on him, and by the final chorus it circles back to the same idea, that no matter how far he goes or how much he struggles himself, they are grateful he comes back, and he will always be the one running home.

Downfall

This one feels clearly written from the perspective of the person dropping Noah off at the airport, sending him away from home again, and it almost reads like his mom. Downfall by Noah Kahan carries this heavy mix of love, guilt, and distance right from the start. The line “I think that we had everything until now just didn’t know it” hits especially hard because it shows how much value she placed on the life they had when he was still fully present, and that realization makes Noah feel even more guilty for leaving. When she “curses every exit sign,” it feels like she is trying to slow time down, wanting just a little more of him before he goes. At the same time, this is another example of Noah thinking he can read the minds of others, projecting what he believes they think about him. The chorus opening with “so call me when it goes to shit” feels supportive on the surface but is layered with something darker, because it assumes everything will fall apart for him, which really reflects how he feels about himself more than anything. The next verse is insanely poetic, “call me when the bugs don’t die and the spring looks just like autumn” feels like him wanting to come home when the seasonal depression lifts, when things feel normal again, and “tell me when you miss the climb from the hole that has no bottom” suggests that moment where success stops feeling fulfilling and he starts missing the struggle that got him there. The line that cuts the deepest is “that you open up to someone kind and they hold it all against you,” capturing both his fear that others are secretly wishing for his downfall and his fear that he will trust the wrong people and get hurt because of it. It is honestly sad how much he believes that even the people who love him could be “rooting for his downfall.” There is something comforting in knowing there will always be open arms if things fail, but at the same time there is this uncomfortable feeling that people are almost waiting for that failure to happen.

Lighthouse

The quiet opening and sting of a singular note brings us into a story that immediately feels similar to New Perspective off Stick Season. Lighthouse by Noah Kahan starts with “They’re turning your house into a parking lot, one more outfitter store that only the tourists want,” which directly mirrors the line “The intersection got a Target and they’re calling it downtown,” pulling us right back into Noah’s frustration with how his hometown is changing. At first it feels like another commentary on tourism and development, but the chorus shifts everything away from the town itself and back onto something more personal with “the wreckage of you,” a phrase that connects to Halloween. He fixates on this one person who completely messed him up, and he gets frustrated with how others talk about them, especially when they get the story wrong, wanting them to be remembered in a better light. But as the song goes on it becomes clear that this “wreckage” is not just someone else, it is himself. He starts to believe that he is the one who ruined things, that his success is what brought the tourists and changed the town he once loved. The next verse is honestly crushing because he begins to see himself as someone people would not even notice if he was gone, like his face does not matter, and instead of being a real person he feels more like a story people tell, almost like he has turned into a legend in his own hometown rather than someone who actually belongs there anymore.

Paid Time Off

A lighter theme comes through on this track, shifting the focus to Noah’s love life and giving the album a moment to breathe. This track centers around someone who brings real light and laughter into his life, someone who grounds him in a way nothing else really does. He clearly yearns for her presence, missing the ease and comfort she brings when she is not around. The chorus is bouncy and fun, almost carefree, emphasizing that when the work is done all he really wants is to spend time with her. The line “you don’t care, and I don’t mind at all” captures how effortless the relationship feels, no pressure, no overthinking, just being together. This love keeps him on his toes while also making life feel simple again, something that contrasts a lot of the heavier themes on the album. It reminds us of those small, happy moments that actually matter. At the end of the day, everything he does feels like it is leading back to these moments that feel like “paid time off.” The outro strips things back with isolated vocals and repetition, creating a soft and happy ending that reinforces just how important these simple feelings are to him.

Staying Still

The light strumming is another love life based opening. This one is in the perspective of his wife, and he takes a trip into what he thinks is her mind. The line “lately I’ve been looking at you harder just taking you in” is so sweet and genuine, she really just wants to soak up his presence. They don’t even have to talk, she just wants quality time. She wishes so much that he would stop leaving her for work. She is miserable sleeping without him and waiting for him to return, constantly wondering if he will be around and praying that she can see his face in the morning. Though she is discouraged by this, the chorus line “all love must leave, oh, but search for it I will” affirms her commitment to the relationship and her drive to keep the love going. The clever line “and I never ask for much, but I hope that Logan crumbles and gets hit by a tornado” shows her hoping that by some miracle the Boston airport is destroyed so Noah cannot leave again. The bridge is a sequence of things the two need to do to keep their love sacred and important. The last repetition of “I try to keep on starting over” feels more like a yell this time, releasing all frustration while also showing a rebuild of patience and devotion.

The Great Divide

The Great Divide – Noah Kahan

Haircut

As the album goes on, it becomes more and more clear that each song feels like it is written from a different perspective of people in Noah’s life, and in “Haircut” it is most obvious that he is singing from the perspective of a friend he fell out with, someone from his hometown who feels left behind. This friend is messy, frustrated, and watching Noah leave and change, and while Noah tries to prove that he was still a good friend and that he attempted to help, it starts to feel like he is doing it more for himself, like he needs to prove that fame did not change him. The line “You ain’t a god damn hero now cause you cry on live TV” cuts through that completely, calling him out and saying that showing emotion publicly and making audiences pity him does not erase anything. The chorus feels almost like reassurance, like Noah trying to convince himself that he is still a good person even as everything around him shifts. The line “happy for your haircut” seems small but represents something bigger, the physical and emotional changes he has made to try to fix himself, while this friend only sees someone who left and changed. “Help me if it helps you sleep” is one of the most telling lines, basically saying that if helping makes Noah feel better about himself then go ahead, but it does not actually make him a good person, and the repetition of “help me if it helps you” builds into all the things Noah feels guilty about, being able to sleep at night, being able to write these songs, being able to leave, and being able to lie to himself that everything is okay. It becomes less about helping and more about trying to escape guilt. The bridge leans fully into the thoughts Noah believes people have about him, that he is fake and profits off pain, and that they do not want his help or pity, telling him to “save it for the microphone.” The song ends on what feels like his biggest fear, that none of them needed him and that they were fine without him, meaning he left, changed, and in the end it did not matter the way he thought it did.

Willing and Able

First line and we are right back into self deprecation. Noah thinks his presence is a weight on other people’s shoulders. “Willing and Able” feels like it is about a sibling, someone he is really close to but also feels distant from. He believes that this sibling resents him for leaving the family. He feels guilty when he leaves, but also knows that when he stays it is not good for anyone either. There is this constant push and pull. At the end of the day, when they reminisce on their childhood, there is still this shared pride that they both made something of their lives. The chorus really beats in the idea that Noah will always be “willing and able” for this sibling, no matter what, whether it is something simple like wanting to kick a rock around or something bigger like fighting about nothing. The line “look at you leaving again, it’s all you know how to do” feels like a flashback to him taking beers from the house and walking out, repeating the same pattern. The sibling clearly resents that and throws it back at him with “and I’ll see you again in six months, when you need your next song,” bringing up the idea that Noah uses the people he cares about and their experiences to create music. He feels guilty for turning real pain into art and believes that they are angry at him for it. There is also guilt in the fact that he does not even know this sibling as well as he wants to anymore. He just wishes he could express affection instead of pushing it down. The last line “if you’re willing, I’m able” feels like a small but important moment, him reaching out, extending effort, and offering to rebuild the relationship.

Dashboard

The clean open guitar opens with lyrics attacking the character of a figure, and it feels like someone older who should have been a role model, to me it comes off as a father figure. “Dashboard” is filled with resentment toward the way this man lies, pushes off problems, and hurts people who were looking to him for support. It feels like he is in constant conflict and can never really get it together, and just when things seem okay “the devil shows up on his dashboard again,” bringing everything back to chaos. The chorus almost feels mocking, calling him out for always running away from his problems. Noah says exactly what he wants to say, accusing him of trying to change his identity and escape everything, but in the end he is still the same person, still an “asshole.” He calls out the fact that he cannot keep good people around, losing friends and replacing them with the same types over and over again. Every time someone tries to believe in him or restore faith, he proves that he has not changed, no matter how many times he claims he has “worked on himself.” The repetition of “you’re an asshole after all” emphasizes that nothing actually changes about him. No excuses, no dog, no self help fixes it. He stays the same, continuing to be a disappointment to his kids and everyone around him.

23

I want to keep in mind the context from the Out of Body Netflix documentary where it is highlighted that Noah and his father have a very complicated relationship after his dad’s brain altering accident, and that really frames “23.”This song is clearly about his father and the disappointment and weight that comes with that relationship. The line “even when you’re not here it becomes about you” shows how present his dad still is in his mind, even when he is not physically there. He cannot escape it, he is constantly pulled back into talking about him and thinking about everything that has happened. There are these scummy memories of his dad stealing from the house and causing destruction, and that resentment builds into anger to the point where he says he would “beat his ass till the morning,” which shows how intense those feelings have become. The chorus shifts into something more vulnerable where Noah wishes he could just leave his dad behind and never speak to him again so he could hold onto the good version of him, “23 clean in the engine heat, teachin me how the thing runs,” focusing on that one wholesome memory instead of everything that followed. The next verse brings in the tattoo Noah has, something that ties him to his dad and even acts as a reminder to stay in control, especially with drinking, which shows that even with all the resentment he still cares about him and wants him to be okay. But he cannot shake the feeling, his dad is always on his mind and it pushes him back into that anger. The last chorus carries more emotion in his voice and repetition, and when he changes the lyric to “it can all be the way that it was,” it feels like desperation, like he just wants things to go back or at least be able to remember them that way. He wants his dad to “stay gone” in a sense so he can finally have peace and hold onto the version of him that did not hurt him.

Porchlight

The strong hum opens this one up and sets a tense tone right away. The track starts with Noah speaking to someone who is now distant from him, assuring them they will not be getting his “half assed half apology” but still giving them the benefit of the doubt. He blames them for their state of mind, pointing out that they stopped taking their medicine, and the mention of talking about the weather feels like one of those awkward conversations where no one wants to say what is actually wrong. Noah wishes he could just shut down this person’s rambling but cannot bring himself to make their problems worse. Then the perspective shifts, and the next verse feels like a prayer from the other person, hoping Noah will stop performing and step away from fame. Now the song fully sits in their perspective, basically begging him to leave that life and come home. The chorus rises into a higher pitched intensity, repeating that “poison is spreading,” referring to the way fame is changing him. They offer support and prayers and promise to “leave the porch light on,” showing that the door is always open for him to come back, even though they are disappointed every time he does not. The next verse turns more bitter, with the person pushing back on the idea that they are just sitting around waiting for him, reminding him they have their own lives, their own responsibilities, their own “bills to pay,” and that he is not the center of everything. Yet even with that frustration, the repetition of the chorus keeps bringing it back to the same feeling, that underneath it all, they are still disappointed he is not home.

Deny Deny Deny

The initial phrase is “conversation within a conversation”, and it tells us right away that nobody is ever actually saying what they mean, they are saying things but everything has another meaning underneath it. This goes back into his relationship with family members, and he is clearly frustrated that they cannot have real conversations about what has actually happened. The chorus feels like an outbreak of him giving up on trying to dig deeper, so he just agrees that they can “watch TV” and pretend everything is fine, even though every time he asks about the past they just “deny deny deny.” Instead of fixing anything, he throws money at it, saying he will get their house paid off so the feds cannot touch it, because that is what he does for family, even if they do not give that same care back to him. The next verse leans into exhaustion, everyone is tired, and because of that he does not even want to hear excuses or reasons anymore. He does not believe they are actually guilty, it feels like they just say they are for their own peace of mind. The break reinforces that this is just a cycle that keeps going, something that has been happening for so long that it feels normal. The isolated final chorus with the single strum makes everything feel more drawn out and heavy, and it makes “deny deny deny” hit even harder, almost turning it into something catchy while still showing how frustrating and repetitive it really is.

Heading North

The banjo riff and the ad lib “yeah shit!” in the beginning of the track immediately gives us a fun country folky vibe, like we are about to hear a story from some guy sitting outside. It sounds like it is set in the woods with the crickets and that background noise, and I picture a man tapping his foot by a campfire just complaining. The first line feels like an observation of the town, and this song comes off as being in the perspective of an older guy who never left, watching everything happen around him, pointing out little crimes like “finally catching the guys who blew up those police cars.” This is another moment where the younger crowd gets criticized, similar to You’re Gonna Go Far, where Noah also calls out the behavior of college kids. He acts like he cannot relate to them anymore, getting annoyed at all the little things they do, almost like a constant “damn you” attitude toward the town. The pre chorus is pretty straightforward, talking to the person who left and saying “it’s gone to shit without you, it was shit before but at least I had you,” which sums up the whole feeling of the town, nothing really changes, there are just new things to complain about. There is also this underlying hope that the person who left gets bored of the busy life and comes back just to give the town something to feel again. The man tries to say he is working on himself and being less hateful, but it is clear he has not really changed, especially when he admits that seeing a certain car would still set him off. The banjo throughout keeps that folky, campfire storytelling feel going, and the short ad lib at the end makes it feel natural, almost like the whole thing was improvised and just meant to be fun.

We Go Way Back

The quiet rustle and finger picking takes us back to Noah’s childhood in his house. The track feels like him walking through that space and thinking about everything it has seen. The track talks about all the things that looking at his house now reminds him of, how living in it showed him the world and built his routine. There is this image burned in his brain of watching one of his parents come home from work every day, and living each day hoping he would not feel as depressed in the morning. He puts that so simply but so clearly in “I can’t make myself whole, most days I’d be lucky just to get half.” The house has seen him through all of these phases. The chorus line “throw my notebook in the basement” shows the frustration of not understanding his own feelings and not liking what he was writing, just tossing it out of sight, but the house still holds all of those thoughts and moments. Repeating “we go way back” feels like he is talking directly to the house, almost begging it to remind him that he is worth something. He misses the simplicity of it all, especially in “if it’s only for letting dogs out, sweeping porches, to make me nothing,” wishing that if he could not make meaning out of his life, he could at least just live simply without all the pressure. The next verse turns into more observations, people coming back home, seasons changing, time passing in the backyard, everything continuing whether he is ready for it or not. The final repetition of “we go back, take me way back” feels like a quiet but emotional release, and with the tiny piano and the creaking chair at the end, it feels like he is sitting down on the porch and just exhaling, almost in defeat.

Spoiled

An “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked” note opens this one up and it feels like a conversation between Noah and his wife about the future and all the bad things that could happen. The song shows his drive with the line “tell the fellas at the morgue that I’m headed back on tour,” like nothing is going to stop him and he is determined to keep going no matter what. The pre chorus explains why, he wants to build a life for his future kids and give them everything he never had, but he also already knows how that story goes, “they’ll say I wanna be you, but I don’t wanna be that,” tying into the idea that kids always feel like their parents messed them up no matter how much they were given, and he almost accepts that ahead of time. The next verse brings it back to his relationship with home, using it to remind himself who he actually is, especially when he says “cause where I’m from and what I’m worth have gotten too damn intertwined,” showing how uncomfortable he is with tying his value to his success. He is clearly hard on himself, both in his art and in what he does for others, constantly questioning if it is enough. The bridge feels like a release of those inner thoughts he has carried since he was younger, connecting back to Come Over with that same dream of being the one who makes it, the one who changes everything, still holding onto that kid who just wanted to be noticed and be the lucky one. The outro becomes really emotional, his voice turning into more of a cry, but it is not defeat, it is drive and confidence in what he knows he can accomplish, ending the song with that push forward instead of backing down.

All Them Horses

The song opens describing a constant travel and routine of songwriting for Noah. This shows him throwing all his pain out there, and even though it works, people enjoy it, it makes him money, and keeps him going, there is still something exhausting about that cycle. The plane goes up and then lands, and as he gets closer to the ground he “sees the rivers meet and spread like veins,” which feels like one of those quiet observational moments he always has while traveling. A harmony comes in during the second verse, which shifts into referencing a town flood, something that feels like part of the world just running its course, and the way he describes the animals, “they did not look scared,” adds this strange innocence to something that should feel chaotic. The third verse turns into a request to his family, asking them to let him know when everything becomes too much for them to keep supporting, showing that he is aware of the weight he brings into their lives. The metaphor of him being the “city kid that bought the farm” shows everything he tries to do to stay connected, supporting people from afar while still trying to hold onto where he came from. He leans into the idea that “some things live forever even when they die,” almost hoping that is enough for people to still care about him. The pre chorus line “you know I wanna beat it, I wanna beat it bad” shows how badly he wants to break out of this cycle where fame pulls him away from the people he loves, but at the same time he admits “I’m always on my own,” which shows that he still feels stuck in it. Every time he comes back home it feels unreal, like he cannot fully process it, and his family reassures him that no matter how much things change he will always find his way back. His head feels like it is constantly spinning, and when he calls himself “a sidewalk preacher with a record deal,” it shows how crazy and undeserving he feels of everything he has. By the end, when the second verse repeats and the music strips back down, it feels like everything quiets again, and even though all of this is happening in his head and he is so insecure, the world just keeps moving and nobody else really sees it.

A Few Of Your Own

The high key beginning gives the impression that this might be an inspirational track. It begins with Noah describing meeting someone he has a real romantic connection with. He says “and I felt the spiral of the earth when you finally called me yours,” which feels like he was holding his breath the whole time, waiting for something bad to happen, not expecting her to actually stay. He is genuinely shocked that “you didn’t see me as a curse,” because she actually understands him and sees him clearly. As summer comes on they spend more time together, and the pre chorus builds with that kick drum, almost like a chant of where they are emotionally, and when he says “teach me how to not stare at you” it shows how much he admires her and how deeply he cares. The chorus really puts his gratitude on display, especially when he refers to being alone with “knew well I knew hell and now I don’t,” showing how much she has changed his life. At the same time, there is this selfless side where he tells her that if he has to go, she should move on, have children, and still be happy, even if it is without him. The next verse continues that gratitude, focusing on how she accepts him fully, even as he waits for her to realize how messed up he thinks he is, expecting her to leave but she never does. By the time the chorus repeats, it almost sounds like she is joining him, like it becomes a shared feeling, a we instead of just him, both of them agreeing in that gratitude to be alive, together, and in love.

Orbiter

The song opens with a description of the feelings Noah gets in his body at a public event, the sweating and the anxiety, and then he looks at her and she eases his mind. “Orbiter” brings in that overwhelming feeling of being in California surrounded by so many talented people, and he criticizes it with the line “you’re no more important than an insect on a window,” showing how small it can make him feel. Out there it does not matter how hard you try unless you are the best of the best. He says “some will never know they’re beautiful until the crowd points it out for them,” which circles back to the idea that he ties his worth to what other people think of him and how successful he is, like he needs that validation to believe it himself. But when he looks back at her, everything shifts, even though it is all so overwhelming, her smile grounds him. The line “I’m an astronaut, you’re the moon, I stare at you, I sing to you, I circle you” shows how in the middle of all that chaos he focuses on her and feels a little bit better. He remembers why he is doing all of this. When he loses sight of that, he reminds himself that “even anxious pups need the moon,” referring to himself and her, she is his constant and his reason to keep going. She gives him something real to hold onto and a reason to keep showing the world his art, because it makes her proud. The song closes with this emotional repetition of “if I’m gonna lose you either way,” which feels like him accepting that things can fall apart no matter what, so he might as well give it everything and keep moving forward.

Dan

Dan is an extremely emotional closing to this gut wrenching album. It feels like Noah sitting down with a friend and finally being ready to talk about the hard stuff. He wants to reminisce on how they felt when everything went wrong, bringing up the friend they never talk about and the memories they would rather forget. The line “you’ve been the best five minutes of a shitty whole year” shows that kind of love you only get from a best friend, someone who feels like human medicine, pure comfort and understanding. The chorus is a simple and almost sappy appreciation for that friendship, just spending time together like old times, having a drink and watching the sunrise. When he says “where do we go when we die, I wouldn’t mind right here,” it shows that sometimes the perfect place is not a place at all, it is a person. The next verse brings in some resentment for how life ended up, and Noah carries guilt for not being around as much, feeling like he would give up everything if it meant he could make things better. He brings up the death of their friend Carlo, connecting back to Carlos Song, and also admits guilt in how that loss somehow became about him. The bridge walks through all the things they used to do together in their town, back when everything felt ahead of them, before life got complicated. The chorus comes back in and reminds us that even in these moments, life and death are always there. The outro is quiet but hits the hardest, he pushes himself to say the things that are difficult, ending with “before the moment tries to disappear, don’t the sky look pretty up here,” encouraging you to stop, look around, remember who you have lost, and actually appreciate what is still there.