Not the American Average by Asking Alexandria Lyrics Meaning – Peering Into the Abyss of Hedonism and Heartbreak
Lyrics
Come on, baby
Keep it down
Honey, hush your lips
Clothes trailing
From the backdoor
To the bedroom
And I don’t even know your name
Give me all you’ve got
Make this night worth my time
Make this worth my time (oh)
What I would give to live this night again
I knew when I first saw you
You’d fuck like a whore
You’d fuck like a whore
I can hear you screaming for more (yeah)
Your thighs were made for cheeks to graze
My lips, your poison
They bring you to your knees
Your thighs were made for cheeks to graze
My lips, your poison
They bring you to your knees
Ah, come on
Girl, get down
It’s almost over
Take it all the way
Oh
You stupid fucking whore
And after all of all my dreaming being only you
You’re standing there, baby, oh
The things that I could do
Back to the wall with a drink in my hand
Back it up, baby, ride, ride, ride
One step too late
And I never told you
That I can’t take
Another disappointment
Breathing and grasping all leads to another messy ending
Breathing and grasping all leads to another messy ending
Ten inch
With your back against the wall
With your face buried in the pillow
I see you cold
I feel you heartless
Bitch
You stupid fucking bitch
You stupid fucking bitch
Fucking bitch
In an era where introspective lyricism often intertwines with aggressive soundscapes, Asking Alexandria’s ‘Not the American Average’ seizes the ears and the psyche with a relentless grip. The track, a mainstay since its inception, is a foray into themes of fleeting intimacy, self-destruction, and an insatiable appetite for hedonistic escapades
The song, cloaked in the imagery of an adrenaline-fueled one-night stand, carries much more beneath the surface. It is a morose ballad of inner turmoil and the hunger for something more meaningful hidden within a façade of anger and raw desire— a testament to the band’s ability to weave complexity into the fabric of their music.
A Symphony of Desire: The Overture of Longing
Drawing back the curtains, ‘Not the American Average’ initiates with a countdown into chaos. The auditory pandemonium mirrors the tempestuous nature of unbridled desire, setting the stage for a discourse far deeper than the initial cacophony suggests.
As the narrative unfolds, it’s evident that the protagonist’s call to ‘keep it down’ is not solely a plea for discretion but a metaphorical cry to stifle the emotional resonance that such an encounter stirs. It’s the struggle to keep feelings at bay and maintain the guise of detachment in the carnal dance of disconnectedness.
The Reckless Waltz: Parsing the Poetry of Lust
With each line delivered, there lies a meticulous choice of words that paints a vivid picture of the night’s proceedings. The sultry scene moves ‘from the backdoor to the bedroom,’ a literal trajectory imbued with the symbolism of an experience that’s both clandestine and transient.
The confession, ‘I don’t even know your name,’ is the keystone of the song’s ethos. It spotlights the superficial nature of the encounter and underlines the persona’s yearning for more than the anonymous intimacy that leaves no room for true connection.
The Anthem of Anguish: Dissecting the Visceral Outcry
Aggression ripples through the track as the vocalist screams phrases like ‘stupid fucking whore.’ While it might be misconstrued as mere provocation, this inflammatory diction serves as an articulation of the character’s internal struggle and his fractured way of processing emotion and disappointment.
This unflinching presentation of animosity becomes a vehicle for exploring the deeper recesses of resentment and perhaps regret. Anger, in this context, is not simple misconduct—it is the mask worn by the broken-hearted over scorned vulnerability.
Echoes of Regret: The Song’s Hidden Meaning
Between the lines of transient pleasure, the lyrics harbor a concealed heartache. The reflection, ‘What I would give to live this night again,’ is soaked with the pathos of not wanting to relive the ecstasy, but to change the narrative, to imbue it with substance that was missing.
The protagonist’s torment is further exposed in ‘One step too late / And I never told you,’ revealing missed opportunities and unexpressed emotions that haunt the night’s fleeting adventures. It’s a recognition of one’s shortcomings in the quest for genuine human connection.
Memorable Lines: Reflections in the Mirror of Reality
‘Your thighs were made for cheeks to graze / My lips, your poison,’ is not merely visceral. These lines invoke a raw and potent melody that hints at the destructive nature of certain attractions, suggesting an almost narcotic pull towards someone or something despite knowing the damage it inflicts.
As we dissect ‘Not the American Average,’ we find it resonates not due to a glorification of the hedonistic lifestyle it illustrates, but because of the universal truths it unmasks about the human condition: our deep-seated desires, our masochistic tendencies, and ultimately, our relentless pursuit of meaning in a world where meaning is often elusive.
