Finding “The Great Escape” in When The Trees All Burned

Music Monday 7: a soundtrack of survival

Patrick Watson’s “The Great Escape” demanded a spot on the soundtrack to my novel When The Trees All Burned. The song’s gentle piano and ethereal vocals create a cocoon of melancholy acceptance around difficult truths—something my characters grapple with throughout their journeys.

Like Pocket Rochelle, one of the central musical voices in my novel, Watson builds his sound around the piano. But where Rochelle’s music pulses with political urgency and theatrical flair, Watson’s approach is more introspective and gentle, letting the keys create space for contemplation rather than calls to action.

The lyrics speak to that universal human desire to escape when things become overwhelming: “Bad day, looking for a way home / Looking for the great escape.” This search for refuge, both physical and emotional, echoes throughout my story as characters face impossible choices about survival and salvation.

Watson’s reassuring message “Hey child, things are looking down / That's okay, you don't need to win anyways” carries a bittersweet wisdom. Sometimes accepting that we can’t win—that we must simply endure what comes—is its own kind of victory. My novel explores this space between fighting and accepting, between running away and standing firm.

The repeated refrain of “Don’t let yourself fall down” feels especially poignant when paired with the acknowledgement that things are looking down. It’s an anthem for resilience in the face of inevitability—a theme that resonates deeply with the core of When The Trees All Burned.

Perhaps most striking is how the song transforms escape from an act of cowardice into one of necessity and even grace. “Puts on a smile and breathes it in / And breathes it out” speaks to finding peace even in the midst of leaving everything behind. My characters face similar moments where escape becomes not just an option but an imperative, forcing them to reconcile with what they leave behind.

In both the song and my novel, escape isn’t just about running away—it’s about running toward something else, even if that something remains unknown. The great escape becomes both an ending and a beginning, a closing door and an opening horizon.

What are your thoughts on the parallels between songs and stories? How do you think music helps us process complex narratives? Share your reflections in the comments below.