I have been used and hurt, my
self-esteem pummelled to dirt, for a day or two. My guitar is broken and my amp is a few miles away. I
need some music to scream to.
The echoing drums begin, a
hollow bass note swimming around their foundations. And suddenly a
cacophony reaches out and plucks away all I've been up to the past
week, discards it like
toenail clippings. Pressure builds in my chest, bursting and
refilling, and does not stop until that little bell stops, and the
static fades away.
For eight minutes I have not moved, but my rage has destroyed and rebuilt entire cities.
Wash the Day Away - TV on the Radio