“Imagine that you have been able to let yourself into this fascinating architectural space but you’re in only one room and you do not know how to get to the other rooms because as of now there are no doorways. It becomes like a sonic puzzle.” (Piece by Piece)

This is a song about being nowhere. A hotel beneath ground. A straggling man in the midst of her hotel of choirgirls.

This is a song that is like the inside of a black hole. Was this what was waiting on the other side of the galaxy all along? A naked singularity. A paradox of sound.

He was wild, once. She has to learn to let him crash down. This is important. She has to worry about holding up herself before holding up anyone else. Are they ever meant to meet again? Is she made of matter or antimatter?

A paradox of sound. She’ll meet him in King Solomon’s mines, if they even exist. And, even if they did, could we ever get there and back?

Exit 75, if we can drive that far. On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair. I had to find the passage back to the place I was before.

“I’m still alive,” she insists.

It’s a start.