away from here
the sound gets quieter.
There's not a lot that we can still force out of our mouths.
It's more silence than anything else.
The ghost hands that we all remember still play a few chords here and there,
the noises still coming from the piano in the corner.
They're all in a minor key.
None of us can be happy where we are.
It's an overwhelming feeling of loss for all of us.
Fight, break, heal, break, and fight until we're nothing.
We lay on the floor near each other and stare into the ceiling lights.
We can't even begin to touch.
The hands that used to be magnets for each other are now full of static electricity.
This scene is full of old grays and washed out colors.
Like we got a bad developer who doesn't really know film.
He pulled the darkroom curtain back one too many times,
these pictures aren't the real thing.
Now playing: Happy Songs for Happy People - Mogwai
