The bed's getting cold and you're not here
The future that we hold is so unclear
But I'm not alive until you call
And I'll bet the odds against it all. ^^
Las Vegas is saturated with pop music -- hidden speakers in mall planters and video screens above craps tables; for the four days I was there I never had to put in my earbuds. Picked up a few tunes I'd otherwise have missed, of which this is one. I have trouble associating the Bieber with this calibre of lush, swooning sadness, but isn't all life banal unless art subsumes it in the telling?