Keep the Faith
(Catch Me) If You Can
I walk around proudly on the stage, putting my heart into the performance. I watch the kids screaming their hearts out, for us. I still can’t believe our success.
It’s so insane how our music saves lives. I won’t ever get tired of the feeling of people telling me they love me, or a simple thank you.
They think it doesn’t mean as much as it should anymore, as we hear it everyday, but honestly, it still is the best feeling in the world.
Our fans are the best fans in the world.
I give even more of me to the audience, more than I thought I had in me, but these fans keep me going. They own us. This band has saved us as many times as it saved the fans, but the fans have saved us many times more.
Knowing that our creation actually does make a difference, and not only in our lives, the feeling is incredible. I would explain the glow inside of me, if only words were beautiful enough.
The show is over in no time, and I think it’s sad we didn’t put more songs into the set list. I’m exhausted, but I feel like I can rule the world for a couple of hours more.
After we shower and all, while our crew is working on the stage to get the material into the trucks, we go out.
Time and time again, the amount of fans waiting more than two hours (in the cold night!) strikes me. Despite the cold, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and I notice the fans stop shaking as they see us leaving the venue one by one. Their love for us warms them up, makes them glow and shine.
Their eyes glisten with tears, and happiness as I walk towards them. I smile at them, feeling truly happy, just like them. I sign gazillions of things, writing sweet messages on whatever they give me to sign. The smiles on our faces when pictures are taken are genuine smiles, and the ‘I love you’s and ‘thank you’s wash over me; making me grin like a madman inside. I try to keep the smile on my face, but I can’t help it, the smile always grows into a half grin. I soothe crying fans, hugging them, thanking them thousands of times. Their love amazes me, I get completely lost for words.
As I hug the last person I haven’t talked to yet, someone yells at me, “Hey faggot!” I look over the girl’s shoulder and cock an eyebrow at the guy yelling at me. I check to see if anyone of the band is still outside, but sadly, everyone has gotten in the bus already. Whether they would have liked it or not, I would have freaked the guy out by kissing them or something. The guy keeps throwing insults at me, and I can see the girl screwing up her face at the harsh words. They hurt her, even though they’re pointed towards me.
“Yow, he’s just jealous and all,” I tell her, and she softly smiles as she notices the man and his curse words don’t mean shit to me. “He wishes he could hug all these amazing girls, maybe even the boys,” I joke, giggling. She giggles too, forgetting about the hurting words. “We love you,” I say waving at the girl, then waving at everyone for one last time, before walking towards the bus.
Before I get on it, I change my mind and walk over to the still cursing guy. I wink at him, and start acting all sexy, in a retarded way. I make fun of him, before waving girly at him and giggling in my, as usual, pretty feminine way.
As I get on the bus eventually, I grin at the thought of the new flaming and rumours that’ll be spread all over the place – Internet and tabloids and all – as haters commit a new attempt in breaking me. As if their words would hurt me, especially after a show and meeting so many amazing people.
Catch me if you can, bitches.
It’s so insane how our music saves lives. I won’t ever get tired of the feeling of people telling me they love me, or a simple thank you.
They think it doesn’t mean as much as it should anymore, as we hear it everyday, but honestly, it still is the best feeling in the world.
Our fans are the best fans in the world.
I give even more of me to the audience, more than I thought I had in me, but these fans keep me going. They own us. This band has saved us as many times as it saved the fans, but the fans have saved us many times more.
Knowing that our creation actually does make a difference, and not only in our lives, the feeling is incredible. I would explain the glow inside of me, if only words were beautiful enough.
The show is over in no time, and I think it’s sad we didn’t put more songs into the set list. I’m exhausted, but I feel like I can rule the world for a couple of hours more.
After we shower and all, while our crew is working on the stage to get the material into the trucks, we go out.
Time and time again, the amount of fans waiting more than two hours (in the cold night!) strikes me. Despite the cold, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and I notice the fans stop shaking as they see us leaving the venue one by one. Their love for us warms them up, makes them glow and shine.
Their eyes glisten with tears, and happiness as I walk towards them. I smile at them, feeling truly happy, just like them. I sign gazillions of things, writing sweet messages on whatever they give me to sign. The smiles on our faces when pictures are taken are genuine smiles, and the ‘I love you’s and ‘thank you’s wash over me; making me grin like a madman inside. I try to keep the smile on my face, but I can’t help it, the smile always grows into a half grin. I soothe crying fans, hugging them, thanking them thousands of times. Their love amazes me, I get completely lost for words.
As I hug the last person I haven’t talked to yet, someone yells at me, “Hey faggot!” I look over the girl’s shoulder and cock an eyebrow at the guy yelling at me. I check to see if anyone of the band is still outside, but sadly, everyone has gotten in the bus already. Whether they would have liked it or not, I would have freaked the guy out by kissing them or something. The guy keeps throwing insults at me, and I can see the girl screwing up her face at the harsh words. They hurt her, even though they’re pointed towards me.
“Yow, he’s just jealous and all,” I tell her, and she softly smiles as she notices the man and his curse words don’t mean shit to me. “He wishes he could hug all these amazing girls, maybe even the boys,” I joke, giggling. She giggles too, forgetting about the hurting words. “We love you,” I say waving at the girl, then waving at everyone for one last time, before walking towards the bus.
Before I get on it, I change my mind and walk over to the still cursing guy. I wink at him, and start acting all sexy, in a retarded way. I make fun of him, before waving girly at him and giggling in my, as usual, pretty feminine way.
As I get on the bus eventually, I grin at the thought of the new flaming and rumours that’ll be spread all over the place – Internet and tabloids and all – as haters commit a new attempt in breaking me. As if their words would hurt me, especially after a show and meeting so many amazing people.
Catch me if you can, bitches.