he pretended that he loved me from far away but he really didn’t. the things he said were just lyrics and they were as make believe as his music. i could hear it but i couldn’t keep in touch with all the distance between us. it was my fault for believing the letters just like everyone else believes what’s written. if its in black and white then it must be real and if its made the morning pages then its definitely not fiction. i believe things when i feel them and i feel sorry for those people who only believe what they see.
these guys used to be called sundown but now they don’t have a name. they’re just 3 guys with guitars who recorded demos across the pond and came back home to play rockwood on friday at 10.