Read These Lips

Over the loud acoustic guitar and echoing words of the grungy yet attractive lead singer he leaned over and said to me, “You know, none of their lyrics are at all original. They’re just repeating the cliches of life.” I hated when he made fun of the things I liked. It was always personal and intentional. I also thought he was entirely wrong. I said, “Lyrics aren’t always supposed to be novel and extreme. They’re just supposed to make you feel a part of a collective, in the best way. As if someone else in the world actually understands what you’re going through. No one likes listening to something they can’t understand or relate to whatsoever. I mean, I think life is about realizing that even though we’re all so drastically different we have this underlying core of the same emotions. We all know what it’s like to want to be saved when we’re lost, to want to be loved, what it’s like to be angry, and depressed, and overwhelmed with excitement. This band does that for me, they’re just like me.” He stared at me for a few seconds, taking in everything I had just said. And then he said, “I can barely hear you over the music, what’d you say?”


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