All language subtitles for The.Horror.at.Gallery.Kay.2018.1080p.WEBRip.x264-RARBG

(ominous music)

(distorted voices)

- Miss, he said if she
comes in the next 10 minutes

he can still--
- All right.

- It's just, I have kids, so.

- I understand.

- Oh, sorry, sorry.

- Sorry, are you?

- Did I hit your--

- No no, I'm fine.

Is this?

- Yes, thank God.

- Sorry, I was, whatever.

- He almost went home.

- Okay, I mean, if it's better
for him, I know it's late.

- No, he said he would see us

- He's making an exception
because you're a friend.

Just knock on the door.

(Petra sighs heavily)

(tense flute music)

- We should knock, we shouldn't
make him wait any longer.

- I didn't get a chance to feed Calliope.

- [Olive] She'll be fine.

- I don't know, it's just we
shouldn't leave it too late.

- If we wait any longer he'll leave.

(knocking)

- [Bozill] One minute, just.

- I don't know, it's already--
- He said he would see us, knock again.

- I'm not gonna--

- Apologies, just wrapping up my 6:15.

Hi, Petra.

- [Olive] But there's no...

- Video chat.

- You do couples-counseling by video chat?

- Not happily,

but lots of people want
it so I have to compete.

Hubby likes nice things.

- Should we just start, is that how--

- How is Sherman?

- He's good.

Well, he's not good.

- His mom?

- [Olive] I'm know your time is limited.

- Oh, can it be a thing that you chill

while we talk about
Bozill's sick mother-in-law?

- It's fine, or it is what it is.

It's just a lot of train
trips back and forth,

he's getting that
thousand-yard commuter stare.

- I'm very sorry about your
mother-in-law's illness.

- You know what, I'm already
screwing up my own master plan.

- Your what?

- I thought maybe the
rule we could make is

that we discuss anything
pertaining to the fact

that you and I know each
other in the waiting room,

and that once you come in here

that subject matter becomes off-limits.

But obviously--

- We could start that now.

We could say that that's
the rule as of right now.

- No, no, no, no, you're right.

We're in the workplace so let's work.

From now on, I don't know you.

- You don't sit behind?

- I like to engage.

- Okay.

- I like that.

- I'm protected behind
a desk, I get sleepy.

Out here, in front?

- Exactly.
- It's bracing.

- Good, great.

- So,

three understandings we all
have to sign on to right now,

right from the jump.

One: everybody listens.

There are gonna be

a lot of uncomfortable
things said in this room,

the kind of things in real life

we go into other rooms to avoid.

In here we just have to take
it, uncut, no protection,

just listen.

- That's so right.

Two: no competition.

What does that mean?

A lot of things.

Competing against your partner

for the biggest list of grievances,

playing the "I can top that" game

when your partner is critiquing you,

so you try to come back at them

with some even worse story
about something they did.

Not here.

Here we work through the
critique in the moment

and we get to your story some other time.

- Amazing.

- Three: I'm not here to
save your relationship.

- You're not.
- What?

- I'm here to clarify.

'Cause that's the main thing

a trained third party can offer.

Because this is weird, right?

I mean, let's acknowledge
that, this is weird.

Inside every couple is a
secret world, (echoing)

a vast voluminous catalog of
encounters and code-words,

a whole lexicon of touch
and resentment and joy

that no outsider, even a best
friend, could even fathom.

- [Olive] A secret world.

- [Bozill] Co-existing within
and alongside this one.

- [Olive] Yes.

- And the idea of
bringing in some third guy

into your secret world, to
learn your secret language,

to rifle through your
drawers and your closets?

It's absurd, it's
creepy, it's yuck, right?

- That's what I said when she,

no disrespect, I just--

- It's not disrespectful, it's accurate.

Why the heck would you want
a strange man in your house?

Only one reason I can think of,

he might be able to help you
see your house more clearly.

You may be able to see the
house through his fresh eyes,

without the sediment that your eyes

have built up over the
years you've lived there

and this might help you to
answer the key questions,

is this a house we still want to live in?

And if so, how do we begin to remodel?

But you can't answer that second question

until you've answered the first question

and you can't honestly
assess the first question

unless one of the possible answers is no.

- No.

- I've lost thousands of
billable hours in my career

telling couples, "I do not believe

"you want the same things
from an emotional liaison,

"and it is my professional opinion

"that you should transition
into leading separate lives."

The money I have given up by saying that

makes me want to weep,

really, no exaggeration.

- Weep.

- But that's the principle,

if the relationship can be fixed,

go to war for it, fight like hell.

If it can't, find that out
fast because life is short.

80, 90 years, like nothing.

- Like nothing.

- Well, I mean, good.

- [Bozill] I'm sorry?

- Good that you said that,
good that you led with that

because in my opinion,
that's what this is.

- [Bozill] So you're saying?

- This isn't my professional opinion,

I'm not a professional in this field,

but I guess in my informed opinion:

this relationship can't be saved.

- That's not true!

- [Bozill] All right, why don't we--

- He just said--
- You said you would try.

You said you would come here

- I just--
- And that you would try.

- Let's try--

- I'm just reacting to what he said,

shouldn't we be reacting
to what we learn here?

- That was just ground rules!

You mean to leave me over that?

- Olive, Petra, guys.

Why don't we all take a breath, all right?

(Olive inhales)

- I don't think he meant a literal--

- I did, actually.

Now Petra, you may be right.

And if you can honestly tell me

you intend to put no energy
into engaging this relationship,

then I really shouldn't
be taking your money.

- You promised me one session, Petra.

- I just--
- Please, please.

If I lose you I'll die.

- What happened to you?

- Why don't we start with
a more productive question?

- Such as?

- Why are we here?

My lead-off question with every couple,

why are we here today?

- There are so many reasons.

- I'm beg your pardon, Olive,

but I'd like to hear Petra answer first.

- Why me?

Olive's the one that
actually wants to be here.

- [Bozill] Nevertheless.

- Um, I'm here because
Olive begged me, the end.

- [Bozill] Olive begged you.

- You promised me one.

- [Bozill] I'm gonna
keep working with Petra

for a little bit, if that's okay?

- Well, more specifically,
Olive begged me for counseling

completely out of fucking
nowhere, mind you,

and I was like, I know a guy.

- [Bozill] Out of nowhere?

- Not out of nowhere, I had an epiphany.

- I beg your pardon, Olive,

but the ground rules
do exist for a reason.

- [Olive] Sorry.

- We only learn when we listen.

- Sorry.

- Could you expand a little
bit on "out of nowhere"?

- We were done, okay?

Unambiguously.

Not amicably, but let's
just say we were in accord.

- [Bozill] To end the
relationship, the cohabitation?

- Co-habitation is right.

Idiotic.

- What's idiotic?

- I mean just to fall into

the single most boring
lesbian mistake of all time,

the classic.

- Ah, U-haul.
- Fucking U-haul.

- U-haul?

- What does a lesbian
bring to the second date?

A U-haul.

I learned the term from you.

- But I want to live with you--

I'm sorry.

- We bought a cat and named her Calliope,

that's how U-haul.

Then eight terrible months,

concluding with us reaching
the exact same conclusion:

holy shit, we're the mismatched
lesbian-bed-death nightmares

we used to make fun of
and swore we'd never be.

- But I had a second realization--

- So we screamed at each
other for a whole weekend

then on Sunday night we got hammered,

had the U-haul realization
at the same time

and laughed like forever.

- I had a second--

- Then we were like,
let's fuck one more time,

just for the whole, you know,
having-an-orgasm-of-it-all,

then tomorrow we'll look for places.

We got into bed, we passed out.

We couldn't even get
it up for breakup sex.

- I say again, my second realization--

- Right, I'm getting to
your second realization,

your art gallery epiphany.

- It was an epiphany!

- Art gallery?

- She was at some little place,

- Gallery Kay.

- Gallery Kay, right, K-A-Y,

someone Kay runs it,
Ronald Kay or something.

Calling it a gallery,
it's a glorified studio.

- Randolph Kay and I saw
a painting there that--

- And you're gonna tell me all
about it in a minute, Olive.

But first I'm gonna hear

the rest of what Petra has to say, okay?

- So you were looking
for other apartments?

- More specifically, I was.

I knew that's how it was gonna be,

she was never gonna get her shit together

to line up brokers, look at places,

set aside deposit money.

Besides with her credit rating, Jesus.

- [Bozill] So the idea was
that you would move out.

- This is what I'm trying to say,

it wasn't my plan, it
was both of our plans

before she went to Gallery Kay

and had her magical realizations
that she loves me despite--

- I do love you.
- Despite months of
evidence to the contrary.

- Forgive me.

- What did she say happened
at the art gallery?

- Why not just ask me?

- That's a great question, Olive.

I think you'll find that

when you compare you answer to Petra's

in just a few minutes,

you'll begin to see some of
the differences in perception

that you're each bringing
to the relations.

And recognizing those
differences can open up,

in my experience,

some really wonderful
avenues of communication.

- I hope so.

I hope it does.

- You didn't go to the gallery with her?

- Okay, on this point I'm the asshole.

- [Bozill] In what way?

- I pretended to like
art when we were dating.

Can't defend myself.

- So, Olive genuinely does
like fine art, but you--

- Honestly I just wanted
to go down on her.

I'd've said anything to go down on her,

I wanted to go down on her
more than anyone I'd ever met.

So I pretended to like art.

- That's not true.

- Once we were locked in, sharing a place,

I stopped going.

I made excuses for a while,
but I couldn't hide it forever.

- [Bozill] That you don't
enjoy art galleries.

- It was like I cheated on her,

when she figured it out.

It was like she caught
me with someone else.

- [Bozill] So you weren't with her

when she went to this Gallery Kay?

- And came home a pod person?

Yeah, because I didn't want to be there,

because I could give a shit about art.

Olive, I'm sorry.

- But it's not true, you're a performer!

- [Petra] I'm not.

- Performance is an art!

- Oh, what type of performer?

- I'm not a performer, she's just,

it doesn't count.

- [Olive] It counted for
the people in those rooms.

- The people they show in these galleries

are actual artists,

they're lifers,

dedicated, this is what they do.

I did a thing like one time.

- More than once, more than one time.

- A few times.

- So, tell us about it,

this performance career of yours.

- Wait, now you, seriously?

- Well, let's go back to
the original question,

why are we here?

Both of you consider
Olive's visit to, um--

- [Olive] Gallery Kay.

- Gallery Kay to be the turning point.

Now, I'll let you behind the
curtain a little bit here

and tell you that's a heck
of a lot more consensus

than I usually get in a first session.

- Really?

- And what that looks like to me,

arable land.

- Yes.

- Maybe, maybe not.

We don't know yet, but
let's plant something

and see what happens.

- We don't have time for that!

- Time?

- I'm very sorry for my
outburst, it was uncalled for.

- Have you heard of the Dactyl?

- As in pterodactyl?

- No, as in the poetry term.

- Oh, I...

- It doesn't matter, the main thing is--

- Tell him about the door on the train.

- Wait, okay, just wait your turn.

The Dactyl is a storytelling event.

- A storytelling event?

- It started small, just
a few literary people,

a few theater people getting together

to tell their wacky stories.

You know, like, things
that happened to them,

things that happened to
their uncles, or whatever.

On a Wednesday night in a bookstore,

some of the people on
the invite would show.

But then a few of the founders got famous,

I don't know, one of them
was on "Boardwalk Empire"

another one had a bestseller

and then all of a sudden

people started coming because
then it smelled like win.

- And if I had to guess from your tone,

I'd venture that you were
Dactyl when Dactyl wasn't cool.

- It wasn't like I was
looking to get famous,

I wasn't hoping an agent
would see me do my story.

I just told it flat-out,
like I was talking.

- But that's precisely what made it so--

- What did you want out of it?

- I mean, probably why people do this.

- [Bozill] This, counseling?

- Or AA.

You talk about it and
the burden goes away,

except I don't have anything to confess.

That's, that's what this is.

It's that unsolvable feeling like

you need to get something off your chest

except there isn't anything on it.

- So the same story every time?

- Well, you see, I thought
I should change it up,

but instead--

- May I?

- May you what?

- [Olive] It became a tradition.

- For specifically Petra to
tell the same story at every

Dactyl.

- If I'd shown up every two weeks

and told the same G-train story

people would have gotten sick of it, fast.

It wasn't the answer to the Middle East,

it was just neat.

- Wanna do it now?

- Yes!

- I mean,

how are we for time?

- I'm keeping an eye on it.

When it's Olive's turn, it's Olive's turn.

I've been doing this a long time,

I've got a clock inside my head.

- A clock inside your head.

- [Bozill] How long is the G-train story?

- Five minutes, less?

- Let's do it, let's have a Dactyl.

Are you in?

- I am very much in!

- Yay!

Fuck my life.

So, the G-train story.

I'm going to something in Greenpoint,

some half-party/half-installation,

you know the kind of thing you go to

when you think you have nights to waste

and you're not gonna die someday.

- No, no, do it more, begin by describing

your ruminations on the
construction of the underground.

- I'm not doing the whole thing, okay?

I'm just doing a digest.

So we can build a strong foundation on our

arable land or whatever.

So, Bedford-Nostrand,

people come on, people go off,

I'm reading, what was
everybody reading that year?

- You were reading the--

- "The Goldfinch", right.

Anyway, so, Bedford-Nostrand,
"The Goldfinch",

regret at having agreed to
do this, the full spread.

Then, before the train
reaches Myrtle-Willoughby,

it just stops.

Between stations, no
announcement, no nothing,

we're just sitting there.

- [Bozill] God.

- Right?

Stresses you out just thinking about it.

Like, if I'd walked the whole
way it would have taken hours

but at least, you know, I'm
in control the whole time.

- But when you're trapped
in the tunnel like that--

- Yeah, it rubs it in your face.

It's like, how little power
you have over your life.

Like, you're inside these
giant forces all around you,

and you can't even take
a step back to look at

because they're too big

and there's just not enough
Earth to step that far back.

- Yes.

- So that was the mindset I
was in when the thing happened.

(phone ringing)

- Are you serious?

- Apologies, under normal
circumstances I would never--

- It's fine.

- It's not fine, how are
these abnormal circumstances?

- Oh, the husband, Sherman.

- No, no, no. I thought
it might be, but no,

Olive's right, this is completely
unprofessional, I should--

- You're seeing us on your personal time,

if Sherman needs you--

- No, it's not him, it's somebody else,

I just thought, you see,
he's a touch fragile,

you know, with his mother.

He occasionally needs...

- Gentle words?

- A talking off the ledge, it's just...

Hey!

We're in the middle of a session.

I'm sorry, I'm silencing it.

- You don't have to do that.

- I think I'm silencing
it, I'm sorry it's new.

- You don't have to do
that, if Sherman needs you.

- No, we are in the middle of a session.

Olive's right, I have to meet
my professional obligations.

- I like that.

I haven't been deemed
right very much tonight.

- Deemed?

- [Bozill] When the thing happened?

- Wait, what?

- You found yourself in a mental state

of pondering your own powerlessness

when the thing happened.

- You see, you are curious.

- I don't think I made any
statement to the contrary.

- I hadn't even properly realized

I was in the front car of the train

until the conductor came
out from the far end,

which was like--

- Oh god, it's gonna be
worse than I thought.

- Right, does he need to fix a break,

is there a sick passenger,

are we gonna be down
here for forty minutes?

I don't know how much
more Goldfinch I can take.

But then these two
people, a man and a woman,

stood up to greet him.

- To greet him?

Not to ask about--

- Well that's what I thought.

The conductor's black, looks about 55.

Two white people dressed in,

I don't know, walking-around
clothes, look about 35.

It didn't even occur to me

that the three of them
would knew each other.

So I'm bracing myself for
them to start throwing around

white-person weight like, "do
you know how late we are?"

- But instead?

- They all just sort of said hi.

(quiet melodic music)

I use different examples when I tell it,

but they all just sort
of said hi to each other

like they work in the
same office every day.

You know, no one boss, no one ranking,

just that tired hi you say to
someone you see every morning.

- So they weren't MTA?

- They weren't dressed for
it, the two white people,

they looked like they
were going to brunch.

- So they said hi.

- Yeah and the conductor walked over

to the left side wall, to a poster

I don't know for an opera or something

and he took a key

and he put it in a lock,

a lock I hadn't even processed was there.

- A lock that keeps the poster
inside the plastic case?

- That's what I thought,

but then he took the
key and turned the lock

and opened an entire door.

A full-on, full-height door

that opened into...

- Into...

- Well, I mean, I couldn't exactly see.

I could see there was a place to step,

a platform, flush with
the side of the train,

but other than that I
could only see darkness.

And then the conductor turns
back to the two white people,

and I'm waiting for some grand, evil,

"Welcome to the nether-station,"

- The nether-station.

- But then he just says, catch you later,

like they were walking past
his desk to go to lunch.

- And they just walked
off into the darkness?

Just like that?

- Just like that, just like that.

And the darkness did what
it does in scary stories

it swallowed them up.
- Swallowed them up.

- And the rest of us on the train,

we hadn't even noticed
each other before that.

It was like we were all in
our own private Goldfinches

but then all of a sudden
we were all united,

bonded together in this insanity, like,

are you seeing this?

Is this really a thing?

- It wasn't some sort of evacuation?

- If it was, it was an evacuation of two.

The conductor closed the
door, turned the key,

still as chill as you please,
and without a word to us

walks back to the driving booth.

It was something about the
train starting to move again

that changed the room-tone.

Because before that

it was like we were in
some other dimension

with magic doors, that
we might never go home.

But once the train started moving again,

once the announcement came on

that Myrtle-Willoughby was next,

it was like it lifted some inhibitor.

- An inhibitor on what?

- Acknowledgement.

Out loud.

The G-train starts again,
the announcement comes on,

Myrtle-Willoughby next, the rumbling,

the hum under our feet,

all those comforting
talismans starting to return.

And then a man at the other
end of the train says--

- Oh this, I adore this.

- "Okay, that was some

"straight-up Hogwarts shit right there!"

(laughing)

- And everybody lost it.

- Lost it.

Massive tension release.

It was like a magic spell,

or like a magic spell had been broken,

everybody was babbling at once.

Everyone was talking over everyone else.

About how they'd been riding the G-train

and had never seen anything like this.

They had their phones out,

you could tell they were
panting to tweet it,

but there's no reception underground,

so you could see how frustrated they were

at the desire to bring this to the world.

- [Bozill] But not you.

- I'm sorry?

- [Bozill] You weren't
champing at the bit,

you were simply observing.

- I mean, I'm not a
regular G-train person, so.

- [Bozill] But beyond that.

You made a choice not to get involved

in the decompression ritual.

- [Olive] That's because
Petra's different.

- I'm not different,

it was just a weird moment.

When he opened that door

my brain went on a trip I
wasn't ready to come back from.

- [Bozill] A trip where?

(sighs)

- I began to tell myself a story

about a world behind the hidden door.

- [Bozill] But surely it was just a--

- No, look, I knew there was gonna be

some prosaic-ass explanation,
and eventually there was,

but I didn't want to leave
where I was at that moment.

- Nor should you have.

- [Bozill] Where were you?

- It was like, I mean I know it's cheap,

but sometimes when I would
tell this story at the Dactyl

I would say it was like
my brain went astrally

through the train-door after them,

after the two white brunch-people,

onto the dark platform into the darkness.

- Yes, this, listen to this.

- And I followed them at
a distance, Astral-Petra,

not wanting to interrupt their errand,

just wanting to visit their world.

- [Bozill] And did you?

- It was such a surprisingly
short walk in the darkness,

and then they opened a
door I would've never seen

so thank god they were there,

and we all stepped out onto the platform.

- [Bozill] But not Myrtle-Willoughby.

- [Olive] Oh no.

(train screeching)

- It was this other station,

a grand dining room,

the smell of cooking,

meats, vegetables,

not specific, nothing I could identify.

Animals we don't raise,

plants we don't grow anymore?

A man playing an organ.

Something metal over his head.

Ceremonial, a restraint?

Both?

A slit for his eyes

so he could read the
music in front of him,

but something beautiful carved
and curved into his mouth.

Trains coming in, trains going out,

frosted windows, shapes
moving around inside.

- Commuters?

- I think so?

- And you understood.

- This huge, thriving,
genuinely grand central station,

I understood, I realized.

- [Bozill] Realized what?

(uptempo music)

- That there's always been
a missing part of history,

ragged stubs in the history books

where pages have been torn out.

There's always been a hidden city.

That New York City, as we know
it, from the 1600s onward,

was in fact a massive cover-up.

- A cover-up for what?

- The City that was here before.

The intolerable City that was here before.

If we were going to carry
on we had to build over it.

We would have destroyed
it if we could have,

but since we couldn't,

we built our city over their city,

our streets over their streets,

our homes over their homes,

our buildings over their buildings,

our trains over their trains,

and prayed that we'd be
so massive and so heavy

that we'd hold them down forever.

(train screeching)

- [Bozill] But that was--
- Yes?

- [Bozill] Just a reverie,
something you told yourself

to pass the time underground,

cut off from your reference points.

Just a fancy.

- Is that what it was, Petra?

- The MTA released a
statement a couple days later

Apparently there's a
tiny signaling station

between Bedford-Nostrand
and Myrtle-Willoughby.

- [Bozill] So there was an explanation.

- There was a statement of an explanation.

- [Bozill] So it was
just a reverie, a fancy.

- Yes, it was just a fancy.

It was just something I thought.

To carry me out of that
tunnel and back to my life.

In my own world.

- You left off the end.

- No I didn't.

- Yes, the end, the exhortation.

- The exhortation.

It was just something
I threw in a few times

when I told it at the Dactyl

to give it some bells and whistles.

- I like bells, I like whistles.

- Sometimes when Petra'd tell the story

she would exhort the listeners to

uncover the Hidden City.

- Blah blah blah, the truth
swelters and throbs beneath us,

yadda-yadda,

rather than live with
this unending repression

we must take to the streets
with chisels and jack-hammers

and rip the concrete jacket

off the sleeper who
yearns to sleep no more,

the end, Olive, I hope you're happy.

I'm sure we burned all your
time to talk, so I win.

- Why would you say that?

- To be neat.

I should never cared about
impressing these people.

I wish I'd never done it,

and when I realized how
stupid it was, I stopped.

- Breaks my heart.

- Come on, Olive.

- No, it breaks my heart.

Not that you lied about
loving what I love,

but that you're lying right now

about loving what you love.

- Look, Olive,

it seems like you think
that you meet a person

at a certain, I guess, heightened time,

that you've seen them be definitive,

that that's who they'll
be their whole life,

that's their baseline.

But does that square with anything

that actually happens?

I mean, think about it.

Think about who your
friends were five years ago.

Think about what places you
went to three years ago to eat.

Things change.

Life takes you weird places.

- No.

- It does, though.

What's the point of pretending
people aren't how they are?

About every three years,
that's approximate,

but about every three years we shift.

That's not evil,

that's just how the machinery works.

For about three years
I thought it was neat

to go to The Dactyl and tell that story.

And then when the desire left

I just shifted my antenna somewhere else.

- That's a horrible thing to say.

- It's not!

You can't go through life

pretending that people aren't people!

- You can!

- Well, you can, but then
you end up like this,

wound like a winch
and every sideways
glance breaks your heart.

That's a great way to have a
short life and miss everything.

- I don't want everything.

I only want a few things
and I want them forever.

I want you forever.

- Well bad news, because
best-case scenario is

you get me for another sixty years, so--

- So that's a best case scenario?

So that's a possible scenario?

(phone ringing)

You told me you silenced it!

- Oh, sorry, guys, I'm sorry.

- How dare you!

- Olive!

- I'm not particularly
adept with the mute switch.

- It's fine, I do it all the time.

- I almost had her!

- Excuse me?

- It's weird, it usually
stops after four rings.

- Do you need to?

- No, no, no, no, this is your session.

- But it is Sherman.

- Well, but the identity of the caller

doesn't make it any more
professionally appropriate.

- Dude, special circumstances.

- He's right, this is our session.

- How about we promise not to
break up for two more minutes?

Can you make the call then?

- Counter-offer, 10,000 years.

- What, you got jokes now?

- I'm afraid a professional
ethic is only meaningful

if one adheres to it in the
most difficult of circumstances.

Now, one button I do know how to operate.

Boy, not having one of my best days, huh?

- [Petra] Let's all remember
you're doing us a favor.

- [Olive] So you do consider it a favor.

- [Petra] What?

- [Olive] As opposed to a burden.

- You're both very kind.

Now, let's use the nexus
point to get back in.

- [Petra] Nexus point?

- [Olive] Gallery Kay.

- [Bozill] That point of agreement,

the consensus moment of revelation.

Tell us about Olive before
and after Gallery Kay.

- Wait, really?

- Why would she bet the
one to tell that story?

- [Bozill] What I'm looking for--

- No, it's absurd.

Why wouldn't that story be
told by its true narrator?

- [Bozill] Well, it will
be in about five minutes

But first I'd like to hear
Petra's perspective, all right?

- [Olive] Suppose I were to say no?

- [Bozill] I'm sorry?

- [Olive] Suppose I were to
say no, it's not all right?

- Well, Olive, there are certain--

- [Olive] It's all right.

- [Petra] Promise?

- [Olive] Please.

- [Petra] Where do you want me to start?

(thunder cracks)
- [Bozill] I think Olive
inviting you to the gallery

is a good spot.

- Oh, or a sore spot.

- [Bozill] Hence a good spot.

I don't think I ever said

that couples counseling didn't suck.

- It wasn't an opening,
exactly, it was a private thing.

I guess Olive knows the
artist or something.

- I don't, or I didn't then.

- [Petra] Oh, but you're best buddies now?

- [Olive] That's an interesting question.

- [Bozill] So a private showing, then.

- [Petra] Sure, I guess so.

A private showing, that sounds legit.

Oh, just out of curiosity,
when is the actual opening?

- [Olive] Soon.
- [Petra] Oh, okay, it's just, you know,

I was kind of curious

because I didn't see postcards or a URL--

- [Olive] Soon.

- [Bozill] So, a preemptive sneak-peek.

- [Petra] Sure, I guess so.

- [Bozill] And that was
she presented it to you?

Please join me for this
very special occasion?

- Can you imagine Olive
saying it like that?

- [Bozill] I can, actually.

- Okay, maybe pre-epiphany Olive.

She said in that
pre-epiphany-Olive-style, you know,

acting like it was something
we'd already agreed on.

- [Olive] If I was
disrespectful in any way--

- [Petra] You know, she kinda snuck it in

like a Senator sneaking
a rider into a bill.

Oh, after Morgan's baby-shower

let's go to that Thai spot we like,

like I'd ever heard of
Morgan's baby-shower

or had even agreed to it.

- [Olive] I understand
that such behavior was--

- Ooh, that salted ice cream spot,

it's one stop from Gallery Kay.

If we pop out of work we
can just run in for a scoop!

U-haul lesbiana, from clits n' cocktails

to salted ice cream and
cuddling in six months flat.

- [Bozill] In fairness,
I think that's everybody.

- [Petra] Bullshit.

Don't tell me two guys,
at least not that fast.

- [Bozill] We all wind down, you know?

We all get slow.

- [Olive] We all wind down.

- Who was just saying
let people be people?

- [Olive] You should consider

that there exists a
realm of carnal delights

beyond what you can possibly fathom.

- [Petra] Do what?

- You should allow yourself
to consider the possibility

that to compensate for
any neglect on my part,

I can lead you to a garden of
bacchanalian frenzy so rich

it would confound Hieronymus Bosch.

- Normally we don't get
into sex maintenance

until session three or four, but--

(phone ringing)

- Please.

- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,
I mean, I could've sworn,

didn't we all see?

- Yeah, I watched you, it
must just be a technical--

- It's fine, it happens.

- Well I'll just, I'll just--

- [Petra] Do you need some?

- I put it right in the, I
put it right in the front!

- Okay, okay, let's just--

- Perhaps you should take a breath.

- Oh, goddammit!

Oh.

- Shit, is it Sherman?

- I seem to have missed some--

- Is everyone okay?

- Missed some texts, only they,

well, they're from Sherman's phone.

- Well, call him, it's completely fine.

Isn't it fine, Olive?

- It's fine.

- It's just there's all
these puzzling texts.

- It's seriously not a problem.

- But they don't read like...

- Like what?

- They don't read like they're from him.

- Can I?

- I just don't know what I'm looking at.

Should I--
- You should call.

(phone ringing)

- Do you want--
- It's your phone!

- How do you answer?

- It's the green button, you
don't know how to use a phone?

(phone ringing insistently)

- Don't worry, you're on now.

(woman screaming)

- Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Sheila, Sheila, wait.

Where is Sherman?

- [Sheila] Help me, help me, help me.

- No, wait, you have his
phone, where is Sherman?

- [Sheila] You have to,
you have to come get me.

- All right, calm down.

- [Sheila] You have to come
get me! (frantic screaming)

- All right, all right,

just tell me where you are.

Just tell me where you are,

I don't, I can't if I
don't know where you are.

- [Sheila] The gallery, the gallery!

- Where?

- [Sheila] Gallery Kay! (sobbing)

- Where?

- [Sheila] Gallery Kay. (laughing)

- Should I call the police?

- No.

How?

- How anything?

- [Petra] Bozill, should
I call the police?

- If you do they'll remake her.

- I'm sorry?

- That's what she said,

if you call anybody they'll remake her.

- Then we'd better do as she asks.

- Asks?

Who was that?

- [Bozill] Sheila.

- [Petra] Sherman's mom?

- She want us to go where she is right now

or they'll remake her.

- Doesn't sound very desirable, does it?

- Go where?

- We better get our coats.

- Gallery Kay.

They've got her at Gallery Kay.

(midtempo music)

(elevator dings)

(muffled voices)

Down here on the left?

- Yes.

We should knock, we shouldn't
make them wait any longer.

- Oh, believe me, nobody's waiting.

- Hey, open up!

- Why isn't there a sign?

- We don't need anyone to know yet.

- Who gives a shit if there's a,

open this goddamn door!

Wait.

- Welcome to Gallery Kay.

Do you have a prearrangement?

- What?

- They're with me.

- Forgive me.

- [Bozill] What the fuck?

- Welcome to Gallery Kay.

- Eat shit.

Sheila!

Where are you?

(door rattles shut)

(midtempo synth music)

- Should I begin uncovering the--

- No, not yet.

- Hey!

Don't walk away, I'm
asking you a question.

where is Sheila?

- Would you like some light refreshment?

- Is your?

- It's just till my
impediment can be fitted.

- Impediment?

- [Bozill] Am I on mute?

- [Receptionist] I'm sorry?

- What the fuck kind
of kidnapping is this?

- Kidnapping?

- The woman was dying!

She was in a hospital
bed when you fucking--

- Bozill.

- Where is Sheila?

Right now, at this moment,
as I speak, where is Sheila?

- [Receptionist] At this moment, she is--

- Yes?

- Very happy.

(eerie humming noise)

- [Olive] There are three ground rules.

One: everybody has to listen.

Exception: unless you can
compel others to listen to you.

- What do you mean?

What is very happy?

- [Olive] Two: there is no competition.

Exception: there is only competition.

There is nothing in the
world but competition,

and so exception overwhelms the rule.

- Very happy is not a location.

- It can be.

- Three: I'm not here to
save our relationship.

I'm here to remake it.

- Fuck this!

- What does that mean?

- [Bozill] Sheila!

- Petra, may I ask you a question?

- What does remake mean?

- Petra, if I put my hand in my pocket

would you put your hand in my pocket

and hold mine within it?

- Where's his phone?

- Yes?
- Sherman's phone, where is it?

- Bozill.

- Forget his mother, his
mother is four-fifths dead,

if we need to start cutting losses--

- Bozill, we need to go right now.

- I'm sorry.
- Excuse me, please!

- You,

how did you get ahold of his phone?

- Bozill, seriously,

don't you think this
would go better with cops?

- That gorgeous little asshole
live on that goddamn phone,

he wouldn't leave it with his sick mom

any more than he'd donate it

to the Daughters of the
American goddamn Revolution,

so how do you goddam have it?

- Bozill, come on!

- You're not to touch her.

- Eat out my ass!

- You're on your own.

(throbbing beat)

(door handle rattles)

- I know he's not here,

I've searched every inch
of this goddamned place

so where is he?

- Should I?

- The texts weren't from Sherman's phone.

- What are you talking about?

Of course they were!

The phone shows where they're from!

- We made them appear to be from his phone

but they were from us.

- What?

You can't do that.

- On the contrary,

that is the tiniest
fraction of what we can do.

- Where is Sherman?

- In Connecticut.

Ask the real question.

- Where am I?

- [Receptionist] That's enough now.

(Bozill shouting)

- What the?

(receptionist laughing)

- Get off, god!

(shouting)

(heavy slam)

(heavy breathing)

What is that, what's wrong with you?

(shouting)

(growling)

(screaming)

(gasping)

No, no, no, no, no, no.

(receptionist growling)

- Enough.

(Bozill moaning)

- I'm gonna die, I'm gonna.

(groaning)

- So, are you ready to earn
your fee, Claremont Bozill?

- Oh god, please just--

- Are you a relationship counselor or not?

- Petra, go, you have to
go, you have to go get help.

- The door won't open, my phone won't--

- Who was it who said,

"a professional ethic is only meaningful

"if one adheres to it

"in the most difficult of circumstances"?

It's a wonderful quote, who said it?

- Oh, god.

- Winston Churchill, I suppose.

- Me, it was me.

- Whatever else you ate, you
missed his professional pride.

- I'm going to die.

- [Olive] You can't die yet.

- What?

- You haven't saved my relationship.

(eerie string music)

This is not an easy
question for me to ask.

It is an admission of weakness.

Ever since my transubstantiation,

I have been able to draw strength

from the magnetic forces

which gave original
coherence to this planet.

But even strength on that primordial scale

cannot hold on to a thing
that truly doesn't love you.

Here is what I offer:

if Petra wants to go,

I will let her go.

But only one of you can go.

And if Petra goes, you stay.

And my sisters will
collaborate on your remaking.

But if Petra stays,

you can go.

Your phone should work as
soon as you're in the hall.

So look around you, Claremont Bozill.

If there is any arable land
left, you'd better find it.

- I can help.

- Help?
- With Olive's side of the story.

The visit to Gallery Kay,
from Olive's point of view,

Olive's turn.

Now Olive would have arrived at

6:27 in the evening.

Dr. Bozill?

- Huh?

- [Receptionist] 6:27 in the evening.

- The fuck you talking about?

- I thought it might help
to have the exact time.

- [Bozill] Yeah, great.

- Well, it's just that when you
were asking for Petra's side

you asked for so much detail.

- We shouldn't be talking about sides.

- I'm sorry.

- We shouldn't even be
thinking about two sides.

We're not opposing council

brandishing evidence against one another,

we're lovers.

We live the same life together,

a secret world

in and alongside this one.

The question we have to determine is:

is that world worth preserving?

- You made it about sides
when you locked me in here.

- Fuck it, I'm in!

- What?

- Let's do it.

Let's find some real points of connection!

I should warn you, to be totally honest,

as a professional it's not
incredibly easy to work in here.

- Is there something you require?

- Do I get a chair?

- [Receptionist] 6:27 in the evening--

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, I think I got that.

I think I'm all 6:27'd up!

So Olive, you got here on Monday

at, oh, I don't know, let's say, 6:27.

- Yes.

- And you and Petra had
already decided to break up.

- [Olive] That's right.

- What?

- You yourself attested to this.

- Was that you?

Was that really you?
Was that the same you?

- You think I'm possessed?

You find it easier to
believe that I'm possessed

than that I changed my mind?

Yes, we had agreed to
end the relationship.

- Just how Petra described?

- Shouldn't you just
asking me for my side?

- Jesus, did it happen
like she said or not?

- Yes, eight months in four rooms,

Petra, me, and Calliope.

- Calliope.

- The final weekend transpired
just as Petra described.

The confrontation, as I recall it,

was triggered by a remarkably
passive-aggressive note

left on the refrigerator by Petra,

itemizing to the decimal
just how in arrears I was

on the rent and each individual utility.

What is the point in
asking someone for money

that you know they do not have?

- You don't wanna do that.

- It's an assertion of contempt.

It's a reminder of dependence.

And if this reminder takes
the form of a scrap of paper

left magnetized to the refrigerator?

Bozill!

- Because when was I going to see you?

I go to work at eight, you wake up at ten!

- And if that reminder
comes as a scrap of paper

left magnetized to the refrigerator,

Bozill, hear me!

- It's the act of a roommate,
of a grudging co-habitant.

- [Olive] And not the act of?

- A lover.

- Now you sound like you're taking sides.

- So I found this itemized
list on a scrap of stationery

left magnetized to the refrigerator,

left there by the woman

who used to whisper to me all afternoon.

- Wait, I know this one,

how did that make you feel?

- I felt, in a short space of time,

a rapid fluctuation of emotion.

- But tell him what you said.

Tell him what you text.

- Petra, it really hurts.

- Because it would be one thing

if you'd texted me to call me a cunt,

I could've respected that.

- Okay, what did you text?

- If we had a joint checking account

like you promised we were
going to have months ago,

this wouldn't be a problem.

- A joint checking account!

- Which you promised to create.

- Yeah, that's the solution.

Why didn't I think of that?

Merge even more!

- Tell me if you've
ever heard of this one,

Mr. Relationship Counselor,

she came home from work early to fight.

- It was a Friday, there's a
thing called summer hours--

- She specifically asked her superiors

if she could leave
unfinished work at her desk

to make time to come home and fight.

- Nothing time-sensitive,
I'm not a crazy person.

- The rest of the weekend

proceeded in accordance with her account.

We screamed at each
other all weekend long,

broken up by bouts of sleep,
followed by drunkenness,

followed by the cheap
and facile recognition.

- As opposed to the deep
and profound recognition

you achieved in this shithole.

- Followed by the attempt
at sexual congress

and the subsequent failure.

All as Petra described.

And then the moment she did not describe,

the moment when we lay at
jagged angles to one another,

still each a quarter-clothed,

not only unfulfilled but not even aroused.

The moment when she raised
herself up on her elbow

and she said goodbye.

And I said, well, you're
not leaving now, are you?

And you said?

- Well not now, not physically now,

but this is the moment when it's over.

- And I was quivering like a newborn,

and I said, so we're
just gonna say goodbye,

and we're gonna stay in bed together?

And you said?

- We're gonna say goodbye,

and you're gonna stay in bed,

and I'm going to stay in bed,

but we won't be together anymore.

- Great.

We're doing great.

So you had your break up on a Sunday.

You came and had your
epiphany here on a Tuesday.

Jesus, what did you do all Monday?

- Most people would say it
was Monday, I went to work,

but look who you're asking.

- It passed more easily
than one would think.

The worst being over,

we were more at ease with one another.

I woke up when she did in the morning,

I played NPR, I watched
her eat a Pop-Tart.

- Nothing else in the house.

- And then she left.

And I had my day.

A bit of freelance work, a bit of Netflix,

a play with Calliope,

- Jesus, Calliope.

What time is it?

- And all of it free of
the spreading dread of

when is Petra coming home?

What will be the battle tonight?

The lightness, the freedom, the relief.

The horror.

- Does anyone have the time?

- The time for what?

- Why horror?

- Because what is this lightness?

What is this relief?

That I no longer have the love

that once transfigured my person?

I'm relieved?

- That happens every day.

I see it every day!

- Then what was this love?

What was it ever worth?

- People just change.

Why does that stab you so hard?

- I seriously can't lean on this?

I'm bleeding!

- No you may not.

- This is driving me out
of my mind, by the way.

I mean, lit, but at the same time covered?

I mean, pick one!

Right?

- Right, he's right.

Why cover them?

- [Olive] Why do you think?

- I think it's bullshit.

And I think it's very, very Olive.

I think these are blanks

and I think these are mannequins

boosted from a department store.

How many arms does this thing have?

- Those aren't arms.

- The reason they're covered

is that we don't want to load a weapon

before we know we that
we can use it safely.

- A weapon?

- You.

You, Petra, are a weapon.

The moment you are enabled to
look at any of these artworks.

- Seven months ago

a man named Lionel Forsman was seen

chipping away at the Manhattan sidewalk

at the corner of 32nd
Street and Seventh Avenue.

He went unreported for nearly a day,

a curiosity in a city of curiosities.

Authorities were only
summoned the following dawn

when he was discovered in
the exact same location

collapsed from exhaustion.

Far from being a vagrant,

Forsman was a copywriter,
an aspiring playwright

with no personal or family
history of mental illness.

When questioned, he could only explain

that he was trying to
free the imprisoned city.

"The one from the story,"

according to the intake transcript,

"that the woman told at the Dactyl."

He was released the next morning,

whereupon he purchased a pick-axe

and attacked a corner of
the Brooklyn Museum of Art.

He was joined by

the celebrated choreographer
Ana-Maria Colon,

who inflicted minor
damage on a nearby column

with a sledgehammer.

Both remain hospitalized to this day,

and both politely ask each morning

when they may be released
and resume the good work.

- Ana-Maria?

- You remember her?

- Yeah, she told the story at
the Dactyl, right before me.

She had this articulate body, these eyes.

- Should I be jealous?

- Yes, yes you fucking should.

She's what I was leaving you for,

she's what I'm leaving you for now!

- Okay, now hold on--

- New bodies, bodies engaging,

bodies living out in the world,

bodies making plans, mattering.

Not bodies that slouch and stay at home

and stagger from one crisis to the next,

walking right into every punch,

then demanding pity for the bruises!

- Oh.

- I'm not leaving you for someone,

I'm leaving you for everyone in the world

who isn't like you!

You said you'd let me go, let me go.

- No, no, no, wait, Petra.

- Is that what you want?

- I'll come back with cops.

- No, you can't leave, Petra.

If you leave, one second after you leave

they're gonna--

- I'm sorry.

- We're not done!

We're not done.

- [Olive] If it's what
you want, I'll let you go.

- [Bozill] We're mid-session!

We are not done!

- It's what I want!

- [Olive] Then go!

- [Bozill] No, Petra, Petra, think!

Think!
- I'm going, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!

- No, you'll never have
a love as good as Olive

and you'll always be alone!

- What?

Why would you say that?

- To get you to stop walking.

Do you know what couples counseling is?

It's the act of breaking
bad news so slowly

that it feels like good news.

- What bad news?

- The only bearable state is to be alone.

The only bearable state is to be together.

Both are unbearable.

Both are the worst way to
live, except for the other one.

(laughing)

- Do you have a death-wish, Bozill?

- No, no, wait, wait.

You think you're unique?

You think I don't see you
coming from leagues away?

(receptionist growls)

- Bozill!

- No, no, no, in your mind, get off!

In your mind love looks like

two parallel, gleaming people,

each sealed off into their own excellence,

but loosening that seal

for pre-arranged moments of couple-ness:

to go out, to fuck, to vacation, to sleep.

You want to be you, just
you, alongside your consort.

You plus one.

You think I don't see it ten times a day?

I'm a couples counselor in New York City!

- You're babbling--

- Except it's bullshit!

Bullshit, bullshit!

It doesn't exist!

What there really is,

is all these pairs,

more than pairs, sometimes,

of warped, crinkled,
forcibly rearranged bodies,

like plugs jammed into
outlets from other countries,

squashed into whatever
shape they have to be

to fit together.

I can save your relationship,

I can save any relationship,

so long as both of the
individuals involved

give up any idea they've
ever had about who they are,

and accept that from now on,

they are soft, wet pieces
from other puzzles,

mashed together in a
pulpy tapestry of chaos.

It's unnatural, it's deforming,

it's blunt-force trauma
to the body and mind,

and it's the only thing that works!

And you have that with Olive.

You have that right now.

And if you leave right now

you'll have nothing.

- Maybe you're right, but Bozill,

isn't it possible that I'd
just rather have nothing

than have that?

- And it means nothing,

nothing to watch my heart die

five feet in front of your face?

- Well sure, it matters some.

It just doesn't matter enough.

- Petra for Christ's sake.

- I want the bullshit.

I want to be separate.

I don't want someone else's
dirt tracked all over me,

I want to gleam.

I really am sorry.

- No.

- Wait, no, Petra, wait!

Wait, Petra, Petra, Petra,
Petra, Jesus, Jesus!

Oh no, no, no, no, no,
please, fuck, fuck, fuck!

- You just lost us the imprisoned city.

Do you imagine that comes without a price?

(creepy music)

(high pitched tone)

- Petra, you already have it!

You already have your dream!

What you just said?

You already have it,
you already have it all.

You already gleam, you already matter,

you don't have to bend,

Olive's already bent for you!

Olive's already done
all the contortioning,

so you don't have to.

She's handed you significance
on a fucking plate!

All that shit I that I
was talkin' about before?

You don't have to worry about it

'cause she's already done it.

That's why you'll never
find anyone better,

Olive is your dream!

- Please, Bozill, please.

- You, you, you, what you
were talking about earlier,

all those artists, ripping
up the street because of her.

Because they heard her story?

- At the Dactyl, yes.

- The story about the imprisoned city?

- [Receptionist] That's right.

- Olive, Olive.

(gasping)

What's under these covers?

What's in these paintings?

- Why?

- Because the answer will
change your fucking life!

- The, the paintings
are landscape portraits.

- Of what?

- Of the Imprisoned City
beneath and behind New York.

12 gorgeously captured views.

- Odessa really is a talent.

- Why does any of this mean?

- And these?

- Citizens of the
Imprisoned City, my sisters.

- Motherfucker.

Okay.

- I'm don't think I've seen anything

that wanted to live as much as you do.

- And if we lifted,

if I just went around

and ripped all the covers off right now,

what would happen?

- The playwright, the choreographer,

they weren't the only ones.

Three others picked up
hammers to the usurper

on your say-so.

Based on nothing more than

your brief astral musings
on the Hidden City.

Triggered by nothing more than
your insatiable curiosity.

But if you were to actually
see these paintings,

if you were to behold these sisters,

the power it could waken within you...

- Like loading a gun.

- And if then,

if you went into the world
and you told your story?

That flushed, that engorged with detail?

To make people really
understand that every day

they tramp their filthy feet

all over the original
citizens of this world?

Do you know the enlightenment
that you could deploy?

- But I just--

- There is no just!

There has never been
another human like you,

who can weave madness in
the human mind like a quilt!

A talent like yours hasn't
been seen since prehistory!

Nothing gleams like you.

You could free the world.

- And when you came here, Olive,

you came here on Tuesday night,

you had your epiphany.

- When the sisters showed
me the million-year lie,

the living burial of an entire race,

I knew what I must do.

I must become the creature

that you always wished for me to be.

Engaged, devoted, of the world,

embedded in life, part of everything.

Your consort.

To serve you, to lift you up,

to rinse you of the imposter city

so that that way you always gleam.

And to stop depending on you.

So that you know that I truly love you.

- What do you want now, Olive?

Say what you want.

- I want to put my hand in
the pocket of this jacket.

And I want Petra to put hers in as well

and hold mine.

- You want to hold my hand?

- And when my fingers interlace with hers,

a host of several thousand micro-tendrils

will emerge from my skin

and they will travel up Petra's arm,

some of them pushing
into her hypothalamus.

Some swooping down into
her lungs and her heart.

And once each tendril has
found its interlocking point

we won't ever be able
to let go of one another

without it causing catastrophic harm.

We will stand it together,
we will walk together,

we will cleanse together,
we will shit together,

we will fuck together,
we will sleep together,

and we will go from gathering
to gathering together,

and I will say, listen, and you will say?

- So I'm going to this
thing in Greenpoint,

some half-party, half-installation

and I'm riding the G-train.

- [Olive] Yes.

- But why would I do that?

- Because it's wrong,

what our race did to the
original citizens of this world.

And because I want to do what's right,

and you love me, and you
want to give me what I want.

- And this is really you?

Not one of them inhabiting
your body, but really you?

- Yes, it's really me.

Being what I must be in
order to deserve your love.

- That unsolvable feeling,

where you want to get
something off your chest

except there isn't anything on it.

- But there has always
been that weight we carry.

- There's always been a reason.

- But now...

- I...

- Can bear it away.

- I never meant anything before now.

- To that I will never agree.

- Put your hand in your pocket.

(swelling music)

I'm ready for my impediment now.

(shimmering music)

(Petra gasping)

- I know, it's all right, it's all right.

I'm here, just a moment more.

(gasping)

(romantic piano music)

(synth music)

- So?

- [Together] Go in peace.

- Just doing my job.

Oh, don't forget to feed the cat.

- Oh, the cat's been
dead a very long time.

- What?

- Time passes differently in here.

You'll see.

(Bozill gasping)

- Sherman?

(static hisses)

(groaning)

(jackhammers drone)

(sobs turning to laughter)

(laughing wildly)

(gentle music)

♪ Love is a weapon that
is pointed right at me ♪

♪ Love makes me naked for
all the world to see ♪

♪ Love is a long time ex
that thinks he knows it all ♪

♪ Love is a raging fire ♪

♪ Love is a wrecking ball ♪

♪ Love is an ocean in
my teacup so sublime ♪

♪ Love is a funhouse ride
that scares me all the time ♪

♪ Love is the ache I feel
when I swoon and fall ♪

♪ Love is a hand grenade ♪

♪ Love is a wrecking ball ♪

♪ You wrecked me ♪

♪ You wrecked me ♪

♪ You said things you never should have ♪

♪ Didn't do all that you could have ♪

♪ You wrecked me ♪

♪ You wrecked me ♪

♪ Then I let you call me friend ♪

♪ To remind me once again that ♪

♪ Love is so easy but it's so hard on me ♪

♪ Love leaves me longing
for what can never be ♪

♪ Love makes me so sad
that I can't cry at all ♪

♪ Love is an air raid bomb ♪

♪ Love is a wrecking ball ♪