Backstage

Carol Ann Duffy wrote it. We couldn't leave it on the page.

Every song is about you. Even the one that says it won't be.

His name is Junkie. He has a fancy suit. No ID. No sense of direction.

The city works fine. The lights work fine. You're the thing that doesn't fit.

Some people are a volcano. You already know how it ends. You stay anyway if you can.

A poem became a song. The meaning changed. Maybe that's the point.

Same feeling. Different language. A way of saying: this is for you.

Sometimes you search for something you read about in a book. And find something real instead.

Some music is made to disappear into the background. We make the other kind.