Three voices weave together in spoken word, circling the line "I'm going in for the kill" as they ask whether love can survive distance and whether the thrill of pursuit is worth the risk. Withered hearts, ocean-spanning bridges, and the paradox of wanting connection while chasing danger.
Whether we like it or not, they say we can love who we trust, but what is love without loss? Two hearts without cure and devotion, what are feelings without emotions?
I'm going in for the kill. I'm doing it for a thrill.
I'm hoping you'll understand, and I let go of my hand. I'm going in for the kill.
I'm doing it for a thrill.
I'm hoping you'll understand, and I let go of my hand.
I have my hopes out on the line.
Will they be ready for you in time if you leave them out too long? They'll be withered by the sun. Full stops and exclamation marks. My words stumble before I start. How far can you send emotions? Can this bridge cross the ocean?
I'm going in for the kill. I'm doing it for a thrill.
I'm hoping you'll understand and not let go of my hand. I'm going in for the kill.
I'm doing it for a thrill. Oh, I'm hoping you'll understand and not let go of my hand.
I'm going in for the kill. I'm doing it for a thrill. Oh, I'm hoping you'll understand and not let go of my hand.
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