Peccatori | Damiano David [ENG]

IX

Everything that surrounds us can be a source of inspiration. All we need is to be able to see it. It can be anything. A gray pigeon tapping on the window and annoying everyone around, an old, dilapidated piece of junk standing in the parking lot for years, or the people around us. It may seem that finding a good idea is child's play, but it is not.

We have been sitting for over 3 hours in the studio and together we are trying to put together a good text. I have never done this before, but two heads are better than one. Every idea will come in handy.

- I know! - shouted Damiano at the top of his voice, which almost made me fall off the couch on which I was sitting. I grabbed my heart. - Look! - he instructed me by pointing his finger at the window.

I looked at the window. Outside the window, the weather was terrible, it had been raining for days. I hate autumn, I hate cold. For me it could last all year long spring.

- Well, it's raining. - I said. I couldn't take my eyes off the window. When I was a kid I used to love to watch the drops racing by. I always bet on my favorite and cheered it on until the very end. - So what about it?

The boy looked at me like I didn't understand some of the most obvious things in the world. I was confused.

- Rain. - He said in a tone as if it was supposed to be some kind of clue for me. I gave him a look that made it clear that I didn't understand this reference to the current situation. - Listen to this. - He said quietly writing something on a piece of paper.

He handed me the piece of paper, which I took from him.

- "I'm on my knees and I can't wait to drink your rain." - I read aloud. I bit my lower lip and sent him a sidelong glance. - Do you really have to refer to sex in every other song? - I asked while fanning myself with a sheet of paper.

The comparison is good. Maybe not poetic, but not obvious or gross. I like the fact that, despite a lot of references to sex and all the erotic cover, everything is still in good taste and does not offend anyone. It's a beautiful thing.

- Why not? Who doesn't like sex? Everyone loves sex, so let's give them as much of it as possible. - He winked at me and picked up a piece of paper. He fumbled around for a while and then started writing something on it again. - Give me a minute. - He mumbled, and I had no intention of interrupting his genius creation.

I pulled on my huge sweater, which was now serving as my dress for the situation. A creative, offbeat idea. The emerald velvet matched perfectly with the black knee socks and wide, corseted belt. I sneaked quietly into the kitchen.

Our studio, was not a recording studio as it may seem. That's what we colloquially call the apartment they rent. It happens that we are there more often than in our own homes. During the writing of the last album we lived there with one foot. This arrangement solves many problems. You always know where to meet, this is where they keep all the instruments, manuscripts and some stage clothes.

Wall of Glory. It stands in front of me and pleases my picky eye. It's definitely my favorite place outside of the kitchen in this studio. It perfectly summed up how much talent my heartfelt friends have. I ran my eyes over everything, the platinum records, the poster promoting their latest album.

Something clacked behind my back. I turned toward the sound and very quickly located its source. The brunet was standing leaning against the doorframe.

- I made something mesmerizing. - Waving a yellowed piece of paper in front of his face, the brunet said.

- Come on, bambino. - I encouraged him. I picked up a huge, purple mug from the table and began sipping the warm brew.