When that thing called love just blankets you, when it downright suffocates you, it's funny how that's kind of the dream, right? It's when it gets overwhelming and all-encompassing when it gets real, when it gets heavy and when it gets very dramatic. When mental and emotional stability hinge of such a silly -- albeit weighty -- emotion, there's a good reason to believe that no one's getting out of it unscathed and rarely does anyone want to. They'll take the nicks and the burns, the punches to the gut and the scrapes, along with all of the good stuff. They'll take it all. They're gluttons for any of it and when the belts fry and the wires short out, they adjust accordingly and determine what they're going to do now.
The love songs that Virginia band Parachute write are of the mind that everything's to be continued. There's going to be more to come. There has to be. Nothing's ever finished in these tales of love -- where the longing and the possible rehabilitation of a romance are just as tantalizing and sought after as the romance itself. The men in these songs are basket cases. They're holding on for dear life, clinging to those stubborn impulses telling them that all of the bad shit that happened can be undone and that all of the wheels can be put back on the car and it will run just like it used to run. They just have to take all of these strewn about parts to the shop. They just need a little help. Even in the cases where there's a leaning toward the effort being a waste of time, it's not gonna be easy to get back to normal when it's crossed a certain line.