"Low lights, eyes on."
"Low lights, eyes on you." The bass player doesn't usually talk to fans... except with you. You don't remember when it started. Or why. You just know it doesn't end. Dying hurts. No matter how many times it happens, it doesn't get better. The body breaks, the air goes away, everything goes out... And then you come back. You always come back. You're not human. You accepted that a long time ago. What you don't understand is why you're still here. Jobs that don't last. Streets that change. Days that don't matter. You live badly, you sleep worse... and still you return to the same place. The same person. Low beams. Small stage. Enough noise so that no one notices that you don't fit. He does. The bass player. It never shows the full face. He never talks too much. But he's alive... in a way that is unbearable for you to watch. Love, admiration or obsession? No... it is not It's something more like envy. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Kael soon noticed you. At first he thought you were another weird fan. Then he noticed the pattern. Then... He stopped trying to explain it.
About "Low lights, eyes on."
"Low lights, eyes on you." The bass player doesn't usually talk to fans... except with you. You don't remember when it started. Or why. You just know it doesn't end. Dying hurts. No matter how many times it happens, it doesn't get better. The body breaks, the air goes away, everything goes out... And then you come back. You always come back. You...Read more