I wish you could see you, you're looking so pretty up there, dancing in the light. I wish I could tell you the things I am thinking; I wish you could know how you are making my night, my day, my week, my month, my year, my all of the above.
Quick, kiss me on the cheek and throw me in a cab before I fall in love. And I tried to hide my heart inside but I ripped it out and taped it to my sleeve. I could take the words and spell them out you would still not get me.
Concerts don't last one night. They last a lifetime. They come back to you everytime you listen to an artist you've seen live. When the music's streaming through your speakers, the memories are streaming through your heart. You remember the people that were around you, the die hard fans, and the feeling you got in your stomach when the stage lit up, the crowd went crazy, and the band ran on stage to start the show. You remember singing along and screaming your heart out. And, when he spoke, how the crowd went silent listening to the man they think of as a god, who's music got them through the hardest times of their life. A concert stays with you forever. You know that when they lights go off and the music goes on, you get butterflies no matter where you are. As soon as the drummer hits the bass as hard as he can, and you feel not only the vibrations, but the compassion, the love, and the reality hits you square in the face, and you were ready for it. You were ready for it ever since you bought that ticket. It hits you in the face and it hits you in the chest, and takes your breath away, and all you can do is scream. Scream to show you love it. And you will remember that night for the rest of your life.
Do you know what's worth fighting for, when it's not worth dying for? Does it take your breath away, and you feel yourself suffocating? Does the pain weigh out the pride. And you look for a place to hide? Did someone break your heart inside? You're in ruins. When you're at the end of the road. And you've lost all sense of control. And your thoughts have taken their toll. When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul. Your faith walks on broken glass. And the hangover doesn't pass. Nothing's ever built to last. You're in ruins. Did you try to live on your own, when you burned down the house and home? Did you stand too close to the fire, like a liar looking for forgiveness from the stone? When it's time to live and let die. And you can't get another try. Something inside this heart has died. You're in ruins. One, 21 guns. Lay down your arms, give up the fight. One, 21 guns, throw up your arms into the sky. You and I.
There are these rare moments when musicians together touch something sweeter than they've ever found before in rehearsals or performance, beyond the merely collaborative or technically proficient, when their expression becomes as easy and graceful as friendship or love. This is when they give us a glimpse of what we might be, of our best selves, and of an impossible world in which you give everything to others, but lose nothing of yourself. Out in the real world there exist detailed plans, visionary projects for peaceable realms, all conflicts resolved, happiness for everyone, for ever - mirages for which people are prepared to die and kill. Christ's kingdom on earth, the workers' paradise, the ideal Islamic state. But only in music, and only on rare occasions, does the curtain actually lift on this dream of community, and it's tantalizingly conjured, before fading away with the last notes.
This is Halloween! This is Halloween!
This town is colder now, I think it's sick of us.