Oh, Johnny wishes he was famous. Spends his time alone in the basement. With Lennon and Cobain and guitar and a stereo. While he wishes he could escape this, but it all seems so contagious. Not to be yourself and faceless in a song that has no soul.
I remember feeling low, I remember losing hope and I remember all the feelings and the day they stopped. We are we are all innocent, we are all innocent, we are we are.
Not our words, but the words of Our Lady Peace. I had little motivation to write a clever intro and this week we cover 2022’s The Innocents. So there ya go.
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