AT

Bang.

Sometimes despite everything, despite the heat, the noise, the poison, sometimes despite the rage of the cosmos and the

It begins with a piano note. That's all it takes. A single
(tink)
noise to set the whole theme. Sometimes right before the explosion, and trust me honey, it is there, it is furious and it is waiting, there's a chord, low and high, mixed, sweet sad bliss, and the entire world dims behind a cold filter, the sort you expect to chime in during a period piece or a flashback.

Sometimes the only thing to write is nothing at all. Sometimes there's just a piano chord, and nothing you can say or do or think or write or feel will ever come close to the meaning behind two notes, quartered, then silent. Intrusion from the rest of the band comes and doesn't quite ruin the moment, but...

Sometimes all you need is a chord, two notes singing different but together, creating a harmony that borders on incorrect but harks back to the same place and time for everyone who hears it.