À Rebours - 24fps | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• À Rebours
• 24fps

Sitting in the theater, images flash by and she's glued to the screen. Laughing in her seat, and weeping in the aisle; a comedy bittersweet, a tragedy incomplete.

Twenty-four frames per second. This isn't the story she imagined. She tries to rewrite the script but the set's already been stripped.

Watching from the balcony: pressure from commitments makes her want to implode, and the vacuum of ennui pulls her to explode — a vicious stasis, a single frame indefinite.

Twenty-four frames per second and her story flickers on. Time to splice her own frames in, change the reel, her true character revealed.

Lying in this coffin, the actor in repose like an Oscar mannequin. Was every line worth reading, every scene worth doing, every hollow praise worth earning?

Twenty-four frames per second like twenty-four hours per day. Every frame was precious and she let them all slip away.

À Rebours еще тексты