A bittersweet meditation on discovering your favorite band's true reach in the streaming age.
[Verse 1] Found them in a dive bar, Tuesday night in '19 Three-piece from Kentucky, sounded like a prayer machine Bought their vinyl that same week, wore the grooves down thin Told everyone who'd listen 'bout the gold I'd stumbled in [Chorus] Eleven monthly listeners, that's what the screen said Eleven faithful souls keeping their dream from dead I thought I'd found the secret the whole world needed to know Turns out some songs are meant for the few, not the many below [Verse 2] Their last show was a coffee shop, maybe fifteen came I sat front row like always, felt the weight of their shame But when they played that last song, the one that saved my life I realized small crowds can cut deeper than a knife [Chorus] Eleven monthly listeners, that's what the screen said Eleven faithful souls keeping their dream from dead I thought I'd found the secret the whole world needed to know Turns out some songs are meant for the few, not the many below [Bridge] Maybe holy things stay hidden for a reason Maybe truth don't need a million-view season [Outro] Still got their number in my phone Still play their records when I'm alone
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