Story cover for But Not Tonight *Depeche Mode* by oneofthedevout
But Not Tonight *Depeche Mode*
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    Reads 8,657
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    Parts 18
  • WpHistory
    Time 56m
  • WpView
    Reads 8,657
  • WpVote
    Votes 300
  • WpPart
    Parts 18
  • WpHistory
    Time 56m
Ongoing, First published May 24, 2018
The moon is shining in the sky, reminding me of so many other nights, when my eyes had been so red, I'd been mistaken for dead, but not tonight

My interpretation of the song through a story. 

1981. Alan stumbles across Martin on the edge of a bridge one night. He later finds out that Martin is prepared to take his own life. Will he be able to save him or will it be too late?

(Nothing in this is fact it's just a nice little story that this song always makes me think about)
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Laying on the ground I couldn’t tell if I was alive or on the verge of death. I felt alive, but I was in a corpses body. But of course, if I was dead who would really care? Parents? My ‘friends’? My relatives, oh I don’t even want to think about that.. No one would really care..at least that is what I thought. Looking over at my wrists I see the familiar red color coming out, but it was worse. Much worse. Feeling my eyes start to close of fatigue I let them fall, I’m tired...all I need is a little..rest. The loud slamming of a door comes to my ears but I pay no attention, it was probably just the wind or my dad coming home not knowing his own strength and breaking the door. But that wasn’t on my mind right now. Rest. Thats all I need. A break. A time out. A chance to get away. Just a little time. One thing that came to my mind was that song. That song. I was absolute in love with that song, though I never really knew why. It was just that feeling inside that, made you feel connected. Yes. That song. Pierce the Veil, oh his voice is beautiful.. Just can calm me and make me fall asleep. On the verge of life or death I feel like, I’m floating. Something is holding me. Either the arms of angels or demons I don’t know. Just I was floating. The grip around me gets tighter, it wasn’t flames or clouds that I was getting lowered into. It was softer than clouds. It was one of the best places. I obviously have been here at least once, or I wasn’t at all. Maybe in one of my dreams. In a daydream. I wasn’t sure. But whatever or whoever this was made me feel comfortable, something that I haven’t been able to have. I hear this low voice above right above me, it was sad, full of regret, and most of all wanting. Begging. Pleading. Screaming. Crying. “Wake up! I know you can hear me!”
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I will stay here in the darkness and look for the moon and stars, and beg for them to not get so far so that they could light up my lonely night without you. Who would've thought?