A neat little Toni Morrison quote in here-brownie points to the first person to identify.
Written to track 2, Two Hearts
If the heart is heaven tell me would the mind then be hell?
And if I get too heavy for you, let me know cause I can't tell.
He was getting lost in the cracks, in the subtle fractures of his own mind. This, this was hell- to be stuck on an endless loop and the real hell of Hell is that it is forever…. He didn't know what to believe, what to do, what to think. He'd not intended to be here, running the line between good and evil. But circumstances being what they were, it wasn't a terribly large surprise…
The blaring of a semi horn jerked Remy out of his reverie and back to the awareness of the punishing wind whipping his skin raw as he guided the bike to back towards the middle of his own lane. Maybe he did have a death wish.
Not that anyone would miss him, as things were currently. "Heh, d'be lucky if dere was any'un who cared 'nough t'come piss on my grave," he brooded. His head was strangely empty at that—no nattering, bouncy voice of Etienne rattling his skull, no knife-sharp retort from Bella, none of the hushed murmurings he'd grown used to over the years.
Maybe Henri was right. Maybe this trait, the…gift, to use Merci's term, was his birthright, waiting to be claimed. Not that he'd ever admit that. But all the keys to this mystery were being dangled above his head by a madman in a tin helmet—and Remy had his pride. The man had the look of a master manipulator, that smooth look just behind the eyes, the one that was too smooth to not be hiding something. And he didn't buy all that clap-trap about a new race of humans either. From what he'd seen, the darkness of the human mind was a universal, no matter what kind of body it rode around in.