Burning Bridges Lyrics - Willis Earl Beal

This piece is written and performed by Willis Earl Beal – a guy, who works in different genres, most part of which is sophisticated philosophy: lo-fi, gospel, folk, experimental, soul, and blues. Applicably to this song, we should tell it stands somewhere between lo-fi and experimental soul with slight admixture of pop in the style like the recent Noble prize winner Bob Dylan has – the latter also sings something so very smooth, which is nice to hear under the wavy flirting mood in the blues bar after the 3rd drink of pale ale. Actually, Mr. Dylan, in fact, was one of the greatest inspirers to this musician, as it follows from the sources. Maybe that is why this song turns the great ballad, where lots of things mixed, as Mr. Dylan rightly knows how to create such interfusion things.
In these almost 5 minutes, he sings of what he feels – rules of things had been changed and rounded, and they are working differently for different people. Most of all, he regrets of inexplicable down mood – ashes covers the regions of hell, which are not rare recently on Earth. He feels ashamed and cursed, he needs to hide from the promises, and eventually he is engaged in burning the bridges between him and his beloved, who seems so far as if across the ocean.
It is a song from the second album of Willis Earl Beal, of 2013, named ‘Nobody Knows’, which could be a bridge between his recent homelessness and the fame he has now. So the bridge may be considered as if between him and his past life he is not willing to forget. That is why his lyrics are so piercingly deep that no Adele or Jennifer Lopez would understand, as they know only cozy home conditions. This album collects some of his over ten dozen songs that a singer has up to now – this one was conceived amongst tons of other philosophy, by means of which Mr. Beal was trying to insulate oneself from the world around, working in the hard conditions. Even now, gaining his popularity, a performer shies of his glory, resting in a picture of man-riddle, man-legend, making statements that thus he makes a shell of survival instead of hall of fame to oneself. It makes us think he is another modest genius yet must be opened to the world – you only have to immerse yourself completely in the lyrics of any song – even this one is a good example – to see how true this assumption is.
The lyrics of this song emphasize many hardships of Beal’s life. That is why it is so deep in the meaning. It is complemented by the guitar and static instruments like pans, scratches, and pots, which create some harmony with his another outstanding song from this album – Disintegrating, which has lugubrious bluegrass imbue.
Many characterize this performer as the one, who synthesizes the styles making a fusion, from which it is impossible to draw away. This song is perfectly sunken with this, too. It is a piece of frightful delusions, in which it is hard to believe they exist in the real world. Some of the notions can be exaggerated truly, but such aggravation is only helpful as it conveys the gloomy mood of our today’s society, which hunts money and misty-flowing-away fame, hardly catching the elemental essences like love, faithfulness, and condescension in the extra-fast pace of being. It is what, in fact, tells the singer himself – people are swaggering in pursuit for social status, but they are so many times left alone in their cold lonely beds eventually. Though he has inner conflicts (which are revealed in this song) as he was nobody and now he has become somebody, and feels alone inside of this constantly running showbiz machine, he realizes that sometimes he has to wear a mask of nice friendly guy just to continue having the stability in his life. And even though he perfectly clear in this song that he breaks the bridges to his female, he also may tell us in this music piece that he breaks bridges to his old ‘he’, in which he was a bum and now someone buys him whiskey after recognizing his face in the bar’s darkness.

Sources:

Willis Earl Beal: 'I turned myself into a myth as a survival mechanism' - The Guardian. Review: Willis Earl Beal - Nobody knows - PrettyMuchAmazing