Keane, one of my favorite bands has recently released their fifth studio album, Cause and Effect. It is their first full-length album since Strangeland (2012) and I might say a very good album. Thread is an excellent song that takes me back in time. Imi place, deci recomand!

Lyrics Bonus:

Hanging by a thread, connecting me to you
To who I’ve always been
To all we said we’d do

A fine thread, not tough enough to bear
The weight of desire and despair
Untended, the fibers start to fray
The long years of working as one
Were just washed away

Well maybe it was just our time
Forgive me, remember that I’m
A good man, just not good enough
Don’t hate me, I was just in love
And hanging by a thread

Hold me in your arms
Where everything made sense
Where I knew right from wrong
Could live with restlessness
All my life I won’t forget the pain in your eyes
I’m still scrubbing at the stain of this mess
Wish you could understand
The madness that grabbed at my throat
And clung to my hands

Well maybe it was just our time
Forgive me, remember that I’m
A good man, just not good enough
Don’t hate me, I was just in love
And caught in my own net

Hanging, left spinning in the wind
Sliding, you grab at anything
Just lost our way, we just lost our way
You try to be all things to all men
And wind up with a love that’s spread too thin
Just lost our way
The walls that we built were just washed away

Well maybe it was just our time
Forgive me, remember that I’m
A good man, just not good enough
Don’t hate me, I was just in love
And hanging by a thread

I don’t know why I said
I’m not in love with you

Reclame

Nu e prima dată când postez ceva de la Deliric. Nu e prima dată când postez ceva de la Silent Strike. Nu e nici prima dată când postez ceva de la Cătălin(Coma). Recunosc că sunt totuși suprins sa-i văd pe toți 3 pe aceeasi piesă. E o surpriză plăcută, ce să mai!

Deliric s-a jucat cu versurile si totu-i pe dos ca-n oglindă. Îmi place, deci recomand!

Lyrics:

Ochii-ţi râd la fel
Da’ nu-ţi seamănă
E ceva ce-ascunzi
Peste teamă
Oare cât mai eşti
Din ce laudă
Văd cum iar apari
Şi te caută

Urlă cioburi de mine-n mâini
Şi strigă la toţi că nu le pasă
Totu-i pe dos ca-n oglindă
Mă sparg în mii de bucăţi, lasă
Tu vrei să vezi ce vrei
Nu vrei să vezi adevăru’
Tu nu vezi ce vad eu
Tu vezi ce vreau să vezi tu
Mi-am vopsit fortăreaţa în culori să te mintă când priveşti zidu’
C-am închis intunericu’ în mine de frică să nu-l vezi şi tu
Mă trag în adâncuri sute de gânduri
Am gloanţele oprite-n vestă
Am mii de regrete legate de gleznă
Mă scufund intr-o mare beznă
Erou pentru alţii, da’ actoru’ din spate nu vrea pe scenă, cu orice cost
Ignoră scenariul, fuge de luptă, se pierde-n mulţime, vrea adăpost
Rolul nu-l prinde, îi dă roade-n minte, roade tot răul ce-a fost
Mă întreb făra rost e de vină actorul când pleacă că filmul e prost

Mă întreb făra rost e de vină actorul când pleacă că filmul e prost
Rolul nu-l prinde, îi dă roade-n minte, roade tot răul ce-a fost
Ignoră scenariul, fuge de luptă, se pierde-n mulţime, vrea adăpost
Erou pentru alţii, da’ actoru’ din spate nu vrea pe scenă, cu orice cost
Am mii de regrete legate de gleznă
Mă scufund intr-o mare beznă
Mă trag în adâncuri sute de gânduri
Am gloanţele oprite-n vestă
C-am închis intunericu’ în mine de frică să nu-l vezi şi tu
Mi-am vopsit fortăreaţa în culori să te mintă când priveşti zidu’
Tu nu vezi ce vad eu
Tu vezi ce vreau să vezi tu
Tu vrei să vezi ce vrei
Nu vrei să vezi adevăru’
Totu-i pe dos ca-n oglindă
Mă sparg în mii de bucăţi, lasă
Urlă cioburi de mine-n mâini
Şi strigă la toţi că nu le pasă

Văd cum iar apari
Şi te caută
Oare cât mai eşti
Din ce laudă
E ceva ce-ascunzi
Peste teamă
Ochii îţi râd la fel

Încă doi ani trecuseră de când Doru visa la neașteptata lui clipă de fericire. Cu ochii larg deschiși, privea cum panica se instalează încet-încet în sufletul lui. Ca orice visător, de la an la an se expunea și mai mult dramei de a-și vedea visele neîmplinite. Dar asta nu-l împiedica nicidecum să continue să viseze.
Se trezi după un somn încâlcit, presărat cu reprize de insomnie, momente de privit intens pereții și clipe de numărat gânduri mai mult negre decât albe. Era ziua lui și asta îl neliniștea mereu. Se sculă cu greu din pat și se târî până la baie. Apa fierbinte a dușului îl mai dezmorți un pic, dar nu reuși să-l trezească definitiv. Se întinse ușor în cadă și lasă apa să-i inunde chipul ca o ploaie de vară mult așteptată. O tornadă de gânduri îi invadă liniștea și fu nevoit să se ridice. Aruncă o privire în oglinda aburită, dar nu văzu nimic. Vru s-o șteargă, dar se răzgândi repede. Trânti pe el niște haine la întâmplare și plecă grăbit.
Cu un an în urmă, ratase întâlnirea cu Gog Guigou, prodigiosul scriitor, deist, nihilist și mizantrop.
– La mulți ani, zise Doru, când se întâlniră.
– Iar mă întâmpini cu de-astea? zise Gog Guigou plictisit. Las-o naiba de urare și zi-mi de ce n-ai dat niciun semn anul trecut?
Doru se fâstâci și nu știu ce să răspundă. Îi părea rău, dar nu avea nicio scuză la îndemână, de aceea încercă să schimbe repede subiectul.
– Am observat că ați început să scrieți și în limba engleză…
– Bazaconii, niște bazaconii! i-o tăie repede scriitorul. Doar emoții și trăiri inutile. Basme de adolescenți. Cine are nevoie de așa ceva?
– Cu siguranță sunt oameni care s-au regăsit în acele emoții.
– Oh, la naiba cu ei! Ce le pasă lor de mine și ce-mi pasă mie de ei? replică tăios Gog Guigou și dispăru.
Se așternu o liniște grea, dar nu apăsătoare. Doru era obișnuit cu ea. Era aceeași liniște pe care o întâlnea de fiecare dată când se găsea singur. Se lăsă confortabil în fotoliu și așteptă. „If you only knew the way I feel I’d really love to tell you but…” fredonă el în minte, fără să realizeze că era cântecul de pe fundal. Gog Guigou apăru în curând cu o sticlă de Cutty Sark și două pahare.
– Hai să fim fericiți, zise scriitorul, în timp ce turna în pahare.
– Păi să fim, răspunse Doru, dar cum facem asta?
Gog Guigou roti în aer paharul, suficient cât să pună în mișcare acel whisky pe care atât de mult îl prețuia. Il adulmecă preț de câteva secunde, apoi îl sorbi dintr-o înghițitură.
– Hai să nu ne gândim la asta acum, zise el, în timp ce turna alt pahar. Mi-e dor de tinerețea mea, adăugă Gog Guigou din senin. Mi-e dor de copilărie, mi-e dor de prima mea dragoste și zâmbetul ei, mi-e dor de locuri și oameni, mi-e dor de aspirațiile tinereții și oportunitățile ei. Tinerețea e unul dintre cele mai prețiose daruri din lume, nu crezi?
– Cu toții ne dorim să fim veșnic tineri, zise Doru, privind paharul de whisky cum se golește. Dar tinerețea e, în același timp, unul dintre cele mai perisabile lucruri. Spre deosebire de celelalte lucruri, nu putem s-o aruncăm la gunoi și să luăm alta nouă. Și asta indiferent de cât de mulți bani am avea.
– Mama ei de viață! se tângui Gog Guigou.
O lacrimă i se zări în colțul ochiului, se prăvăli subtil pe obraz, ca mai apoi să dispară definitiv, pierdută în fumul gros de țigară.
– Ai venit la mine să te încurajez, iar eu mă vait ca o muiere, remarcă scriitorul. Așa se întâmplă când trăirile de-o viață ale unui om ating paroxismul. Zidul pe care l-ai construit ani întregi se dărâmă, pereții cad și rămâi în sufletul gol. Atunci intervin lacrimile ca o ploaie abundentă care întunecă cerul și spală rănile.
Din fotoliu, Doru își ascuți privirea și își potrivi gândurile care fluturau ici-colo ca un steag în mijlocul furtunii.
– Nu vreau să zic decât că și fără adăpostul pereților sufletul răzbește. Fără durere sau dragoste am fi doar niște roboți. Sunt conștient că viața nu ne iartă, dar nici noi nu iertăm întotdeauna. Am putea privi în urmă la infinit, dacă am avea un infinit la dispoziție. Dar într-un univers infint, viața unui om reprezintă doar o clipă, zise Doru, sorbind ultima picătură din pahar.
Gog Guigou rămase tăcut în mijlocul camerei. Umplu cele două pahare, apoi se plimbă dintr-un colț în altul.
– Dar nu toate sufletele reușesc să răzbată, zise el, expirând agale fumul de țigară. Nu toți oamenii sunt la fel de puternici. Mulți sunt doar ignoranți și nu au puterea să priceapă ce se petrece cu adevărat. Aceștia sunt cei mai binecuvântați.
Discuția se adânci în noapte. Cei doi își vărsară amarul ca pe o găleată cu apă murdară. Doru goli ultimul pahar și plecă la fel de grăbit. Bezna de pe străzi îl învălui cu repeziciune. Dintr-o dată se găsi singur și trist. Un imbold de a privi în urmă îl tot tatona, dar reuși să se împotrivească. Cu privirea înainte, orbecăi prin întuneric în căutarea acelei clipe de fericire. Doar nu s-o fi epuizat toată fericirea de pe acest pământ.

– Are you alright?
– Yes. Why?
– I don’t know, she said. It feels like you’re talking a bit different now.
– I’m sorry. I’m just going home now.
– It’s okay. No offence.
– How are you?
– Tired and empty.
Her response to that simple question sounded like a tip tray dropped in the middle of a quiet restaurant.
– Empty?
– I feel nothing. Not happiness, not sadness. Not exiting, not anxious. Nothing.
– Drink some wine.
– Honestly I would like to be alone with some wine, cigarettes and music. Also with a notebook and a pen.
– Than do that.
– I cannot. Sadly. What about the new girl?
– She’s nice.
– Did you tell her that she will hate you at the beginning?
– Yes I did, he said laughing out loud. Anyway, let’s talk about tomorrow.
– I’m finishing at 5. Can you come there at 5?
– You want me to pick you up?
– Is it a problem? If it is, I don’t need it.
– Don’t get upset. I’m just asking.
– Then, I would like that. Yes. I can’t wait. I miss you, she added.
He smiled, without saying anything. Every time she was saying that his heart was going a bit crazy.
– How was your day with your father? he digressed, like usually.
– Meh. We did nothing.
– He smokes?
– No, he never even tried it.
– Do you hide from him?
– No. He knows. I am hiding it from my mom even tough she knows as well, but eh… I mean, I was and I am always the black sheep. No one is smoking in my family.
– You should go to sleep now, it’s late, he said not knowing what he was supposed to say.
– I need to eat something first.
– Why you didn’t eat before?
– I’m not hungry at all. I mean, I feel sick when I see any food.
– Are you pregnant?
– Ha ha, I’m on my period.
– You all say that!
– Would you like to see it?
– What?
Her question shocked him a little bit. He had no idea what to expect, what is it that she’s going to show him. He waited nervously, not knowing what he is about to see.
– What the f**k is this? he spontaneously reacted.
– My period calendar, she calmly said.
It was a calendar displaying the days for one week. The first three days were underlined with a red line. In the middle, inside a big white circle, it was the current date and displayed in bold large font was the message: „Ovulation in 12 days. Low chance of getting pregnant”.
– Jesus, Josef and Mary! he shouted. He was obviously taken by surprise by the existence of such thing. It also tells you when it stops?
– Yes. The end of the red line.
– So, you’re done, he said, relieved that is not one of those things women say to refuse men.
– Yes, today. Finally! This is the waterfall of Satan, she added.
– Jesus, what a metaphor!
– I told you that I’m weird.
– Are you really annoying in that period?
– Yes, because I have problems with my blood pleasure in general and when I’m on my period I have to get some medicine or drink some red wine. That’s what I’m doing to feel normal.
– That’s what we all do to feel normal, he laughed.
– Okay, you’re right, she laughed as well.
– Do you get more depressed than usual in this period?
– I think depression is not about menstruation. And no, I’m not.I just feel less energy in these days.
– You poor women.
– And the worst thing is that my belly hurts so much. Sometimes I think it would hurt less if I have a surgery without any anesthesia.
– Is that bad?
– THE WORST!
– Is nothing worst than a kick in the balls, he tried to wing her up.
– That hurts for maximum one hour, she replied. My belly hurts for 3 days.
– Okay, we are comparing pears with apples. Fiecare cu durerea lui.
– Asa e… Noapte buna! Te pup!

(TO BE CONTINUED…)

– What are you doing?
– I’m listening to some music, he said. You?
– Smoking a cigarette.
– You know what you can do?
– What?
– Go in a quite place. Put on your headphones and listen to Reamonn – Supergirl.
– I lost my headphones, but that’s what I really want, she said, a bit disappointed.
– Now I’m listening The national – I need my girl. Do you have Spotify?
– No, I’m listening music on YouTube. Is it Romanian?
– Spotify?
– No, the song!
– No!
– I’m not that stupid, I know what Spotify is. I just don’t have it, she strictly reacted.
– Ma’ bad!
– Rude. You think I’m that stupid?
– Rude is something else… I didn’t know what Spotify is before I came to London, he tried to explain.
– Okay, okay, no explanations! I know you think I’m stupid.
– Ha ha!
A satirical laugh was his answer.
– That was a good way of calling me stupid without using the word.
– Clever, ah? he humorously tried to play along.
– Pretty clever, Professor.
– Did you write the letter? he changed the subject.
– Not yet. How do you want it? Here or on a paper?
– On a paper sealed with a kiss, he joked.
– Alright, red lipstick?
– Yes please!
– You’ll get it.
– Super!
– That’s how much I appreciate you.
– And you only know me for two weeks, he proudly said.
– Time doesn’t matter, she promptly reacted.
– If you say so.
– Maybe I’m not that important to you as you are for me.
She was sure about her feelings for him,but so insecure about his feelings for her.
– Let’s not start this, he rapidly ended.
– Okay… By the way, I think I met your next trainee.
– And how is she?
– Asian. With glasses.
– Hot?
– To be honest, it will be rude what I’m saying, but I think she’s a bit ugly.
– Pff! Damn it!
– Maybe you will like her. I mean the personality is more important.
– Sure, he said laughing.
– But ah, I really miss you.
– Do you feel better now that you saw her?
– To be honest, yes, she said laughing as well. Sorry for the bad news.
– Don’t worry.
– When you saw me for the first time you were pretty surprised.
– Why you say that?
– Because I noticed. I don’t know why you were so surprised. But I’m curious to find out.
– I don’t know, was I? I don’t remember to have been surprised, he said, confused.
– Your face was like you saw a ghost.
They were both laughing like kids in the middle of the night.
– Need to go now, he said, ending the conversation.

(TO BE CONTINUED…)

– Everyone should have a better life without me, she said one day out of the blue.
he was very surprised, but he acted quickly.
– Stop saying that. Don’t bring yourself down.
– I’m always down, she said, laughing. Just trying my best, but I’m never too great.
– You should try harder.
– I’m tired…
– You’re 19! he exploded. You cannot be tired!
– Maybe I cannot, but I am.
– I’ll buy you lemons and you’ll feel better, he said, knowing how much she loves lemons.
– You’re pretty cute. I don’t want to lose you. You’re really important to me.
– Maybe you won’t. It’s all up to you.
– Not just up to me. It’s up to us, she immediately said.
– Anyway we’ll talk Thursday about this.
– I can’t wait. I miss you!
– I miss you too!he said, in a moment of sincerity.
– Seriously?
– Why? Are you surprised?
– A bit.
– Why?
– Because you were the one who said we should stop talking.
– Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.
– I really need to see you.
Her voice was trembling. He thought she was about to cry, but she didn’t.
– Okay, will do that. I promised you.
– Thank you. Can you promise me something else?
– I don’t know. It depends.
He was a little bit worried about what she’s going to say. Making promises was not his thing, because when you make a promise you must be sure that you can keep that promise. At least, this is how he felt about promises.
– Promise me that you’ll not leave me.
– I’m afraid I can’t promise that.
– Why? she quickly reacted.
– Because it’s not something I can promise.
– My biggest fear is when people leave me. That’s the only thing that can seriously push me down. Because I put my trust in them. People whom I loved the most always left me…
– I’m sorry about that. But you don’t love me, he added.
– If I say that someone is important to me, that means I love that person.
– You’ll be okay with or without me.
– You just think that…
– Life moves on, no matter what. Always remember this.
– But how? That’s what matters.
– I’ve been through a lot in my life…
– Me too, she interrupted him. Even though I’m still very young.
– So, we just have to be strong. Always! Until the end.
– After a while you’re going to be tired. And more tired. And I think we don’t have to be always strong.
– Yes, we do. But, if you are tired you can find support in someone else.
– Having a soft heart in a cruel world is courage not weakness. And what if I don’t need support from someone else?
– You can crash if you’re not strong enough.
– Maybe I will…
– It’s not a shame or a weakness to find support in someone else.
– But it’s the hardest thing to find someone who had gone through a lot, who can listen to you without judging, who can heal your soul, who can help. And I thought I found you… Maybe I was wrong… If you want, you’ll never hear from me again.
– Yeah, but I want to be more than your friend, he replied sighing like a lonely man in trouble.
– I understand. What do you feel about me? Seriously and honestly.
The question came like a thunder in an unusual September day. It fell on him like a grenade.
– I’m not gonna tell you now, he managed to shirk.
– Why?
– You can tell me if you want, but I prefer to talk about this face to face.
– Okay. I’m just not that good at talking. I prefer writing. Writing stays and it has more emotions. It will be a letter, but I need time to write it.
– Okay, you can give me your letter when we meet.

(TO BE CONTINUED…)

– I read one of your stories, she said. Even if it’s a true story, even if it’s not, I was thinking right about you. I read it all. It was completely full with emotions. I cried and smiled at the same time. That touched me a lot. Like I had to go out for a cigarette. Inside my soul I hope it’s not true. And if it is, that girl had to be awesome.
– I’m glad you liked it, he shortly said.
– Also. She could be really proud of you. Like I am.
He felt overwhelmed and didn’t say anything. He was lost for words, like many times before.
– Is it true? she continued.
– I don’t know, is it?
– Nah, seriously.
– It’s up to you what you want to believe, he said, trying to avoid the answer.
– Oh maaaaan, please, the truth.
She was anxious to find out more, but he just continued to tease her.
– It’s a secret!
– Oh, you’re evil! she exclaimed.
– I’m not evil at all.
– Than tell me. I have to know, she said, in a burst of curiosity.
– No, you don’t.
He was hoping that she will understand that it’s not important if it’s a true story or just the fruit of his imagination, but she didn’t want to give up that easy.
– Why do you say this?
– Did you like the story? Did you like the writing? he asked, trying to make a point.
– Yes. And I wouldn’t be curious if I didn’t know the writer. But now I know you. I have to know, she insisted.
– Why?
– I have to, she insisted, like a baby who won’t give up on getting his hands on the toy that he wants.
– How would it make a difference?
– It makes.
– How?
– It just does… in my soul. I hope one day you will write about me, she added after a short break.
He couldn’t say anything, but he was happy. He loved her smile, he loved her cute little dimples when she smiled, he loved her long red hair and how she frowned when she didn’t get what she wanted. He loved her well enough to know that one day he will write about her. In the end he managed to change the subject, talking about music and the songs that inspire him.

(TO BE CONTINUED…)