I swear this is a song so many of us hopeful romantics relate to. Ugh. Sam Smith is incredible.
There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable… I simply am not there.
Who is this? Yeah I’m his new bitch.