Keep the Faith
Jack-o-Lantern
He saw the tattoo reflected in the backstage mirror. A jack-o-lantern. Keep the Faith. Brave words. Words that no one listened to any more.
He could hear them, hear them screaming for the band they had paid to see. That’s all they were now, wasn’t it? My Chemical Romance didn’t save your life. They’re just another bunch of godless, money-hungry backstabbing bastards… The harsh, critical words pierce him, as surely as if they were made of steel. When had they just become another puppet run by the industry?
He had thought they were doing something worthwhile. Changing the world. Giving people hope. But they all turned eventually. He knew that out of the thousands of people in the arena, half wouldn’t know his real name, and less than that would know the name of their first encore song.
No. There was no faith, anymore. Once again, he’d walk on stage. He’d play hard, but not with all his heart any more. There was nothing left of his heart to give. The paraders had stolen his love, and left him with a hand of worthless bullets. What use are bullets without a gun?
The screams peak, the lights darken and the band make their way to the stage. He sweeps his eyes over the multitude of fans in the mosh pit and in the seats. They’re all screaming so loud…why? What were they screaming for?
He knows that when he used to go to shows, he used to scream too. He used to scream, to get lost in the music, to get swept up in the emotions, to feel like there was still something worthwhile in the world. Sometimes he didn’t know if there was really anything left at all.
There’s a heavy thud as an angular object lands almost at his feet. He looks down and stops playing as the three words on the cover leap out at him. Keep the Faith…
He could hear them, hear them screaming for the band they had paid to see. That’s all they were now, wasn’t it? My Chemical Romance didn’t save your life. They’re just another bunch of godless, money-hungry backstabbing bastards… The harsh, critical words pierce him, as surely as if they were made of steel. When had they just become another puppet run by the industry?
He had thought they were doing something worthwhile. Changing the world. Giving people hope. But they all turned eventually. He knew that out of the thousands of people in the arena, half wouldn’t know his real name, and less than that would know the name of their first encore song.
No. There was no faith, anymore. Once again, he’d walk on stage. He’d play hard, but not with all his heart any more. There was nothing left of his heart to give. The paraders had stolen his love, and left him with a hand of worthless bullets. What use are bullets without a gun?
The screams peak, the lights darken and the band make their way to the stage. He sweeps his eyes over the multitude of fans in the mosh pit and in the seats. They’re all screaming so loud…why? What were they screaming for?
He knows that when he used to go to shows, he used to scream too. He used to scream, to get lost in the music, to get swept up in the emotions, to feel like there was still something worthwhile in the world. Sometimes he didn’t know if there was really anything left at all.
There’s a heavy thud as an angular object lands almost at his feet. He looks down and stops playing as the three words on the cover leap out at him. Keep the Faith…