Foolin' (with Chase Rice)

The evening smells of slight awkwardness and sweet stubbornness - as if two people are playing ‘nothing is happening’ while the bar lamps wink otherwise. A couple of phrases, a couple of glasses, and everything seems to be under control: just acquaintances, just conversations, just music. But between the lines hides that very ‘what if...’, which is easier to drown in the rhythm than to admit aloud. The slight irony of the situation is that everyone understands everything, but continues to circle around the truth as if it were also a dance.