Tribeca

Sam: Why- I mean- Do you have to sit around here pumping out useless, shitty lyrics all day!? Why do you do it? I am sick and tired of you and Mark feeding off of my livelihood by sitting around here, eating, sleeping, and doing nothing. It’s bullshit, and you know it. I mean what do you think you're going to accomplish by sitting around here, feeling sorry for yourself, and trying to write good lines? It makes me want to goddamn puke, you know that? It does.

Alex: When I was a kid, I used to love going to cemeteries. Creepy, eh? I used to walk around as fast as I could trying to reach as many headstones as possible, and once I got there, I would read the names and dates as fast as I could. Somehow I thought that if I could just read the person’s name again, I’d keep them from dying for real. I’d let their soul come out, and let their legacy carry on, and I would keep them from being forgotten. ‘Cause that’s when you really die, when no one remembers you. That’s what those corpses want, Sam. That’s why they bury themselves. They don’t want to be forgot… And I thought, that if I could just read their names, they would tell me their stories and I would carry their accomplishments on forever and ever, and they wouldn’t die. But as much as read those names, the voices never came. The graves were still silent. No one talked, so I gave up, I stopped going... Guess I was afraid. Afraid I was gonna end up that same way. I’d just be a rock with a name and two dates on it that no one remembers. And the people, they’d walk up and say, “Alexander Leach died age 41. Now he wasn’t very old, was he?” and that would be it. I would sit there alone, but adored. I can’t do that Sam. I can’t. That’s why I write these songs. I hope that maybe I’ll write something good, and then I’ll be famous, and everyone will know my name. Then I won’t ever be forgotten. I will live on, forever.