I would bleed for you.
Baby, we must survive.
Pitiful Peaches are sweet but tart.
Baby, baby, baby,
Please don't squeeze my heart.
Pitiful Peaches are what I am to you.”–Darren
“When the peach flowers bloom
And you spit out the pit
Remember that I tried my best
Struggling is hard to admit
So please lay me to rest.”–Jesse
The chorus was repeated once more at the end.Jesse made Darren’s simple love song into a compelling story about struggling with your inner self so much that you cannot love.
Darren turned to Jesse.“This is sensational.You turned my stupid tune into a sparkling gem.It has so many layers.These lyrics combined with Keith playing the drums, Mason’s keyboarding, and Tonya’s bass would be mind-blowing.”
Darren was right.Jesse turned his sharp-edged rock and ran it through a tumbler.But it still needed to be polished.“You guys should all try to mess around with it and add something,” I recommended.
Jesse scratched his head.“I guess that would be okay, but if I want to change something, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” he said as he whacked Keith on the back.
Keith whacked Jesse right back.
There was a reason Jesse Young and The Matches ended up in Moose Creek, of all places.Maybe we could help each other in ways I never dreamed of.Jesse and the band dove into the guitar case full of peaches, eating the juicy parts and spitting or throwing out their pits into the fire.
The night dragged on.The stars dimmed, and the air started to smell smokey.It was very faint.However, the atmosphere had changed.My clear breaths turned fogged as Jesse Young and The Matches perfected their new song, “Pitiful Peaches.”
Chapter Eighteen
