[We Row and we row and we row and we tire.]
It’s hard work. It’s time and heart and cash and moments of brief, fleeting beauty. It’s connection. It’s unspeakable bonds. It’s wonderment even in the worse times. It’s compulsion. It’s bruises and blisters and black-eyes and the same songs 1000 times over. It’s more and less than you imagine it being.
We are so thankful to you. We are thankful beyond words. People say that they’re driven to do it. That it’s a part of them that grows beneath the ribs, until it’s pressing against them so hard they fear they’ll burst. They need to let it out. It’s the way ‘I love you’ sits like cotton in your mouth when you’re lying next to someone warm and thrilling and familiar. Something safe and risky all at once. And you say it. Lay it at the alter. But, without a lover’s ear, or heart, or hands, it wouldn’t mean anything. ‘I love you’ would be motionless. It’s like that with us. We are driven and alive with direction. But we are dependent.
So, thank you. For following us. For reflecting our songs back to us. For stirring within us. And, on our best nights, for letting us stir within you. We’ll, hopefully, be given a chance to see you all in person this Saturday, when we do, the smile in our eyes are for you. Are for us.
Until then, vigilance.