Well, what can I say? I may as well cut straight to the chase, and watch my credibility go up in smoke.
So, there I was, watching the Ghost Whisperer (if you haven’t seen it, it’s that show where Jennifer Love Hewitt’s breasts can talk to ghosts). And as I watched, wondering why EVERY SINGLE BLOODY EPISODE HAS THE EXACT SAME BLOODY PLOT, I was surprised to find, at the very end of one episode, a rather nice song.
It’s nice. It’s derivative. It’s soft-rock. It’s [INSERT ANY NUMBER OF SYNONYMS FOR NOT ORIGINAL HERE].
Don’t lie and say that it’s OK. It’s alright if there’s nothing more to say. So I’m running away.
I’m leaving this place. Yeah, I’m running away, I’m running away.
It’s definitely not as bland as the lyrics suggest. It’s a well-executed, slow-build, slightly anthemic, lighters-in-the-air, slice of nice.
So, get your lighter in the air. Just watch out for Jennifer’s breasts.