Piano (Black Key)

Piano began with sound, not with language. Before there were lyrics, there were two notes. Something about the relationship between B and C arrested me. I couldn't have explained why at the time; I only knew that those two tones carried a feeling I recognized. They seemed to embody two different ways of moving through the world. One reached outward, eager to act, build, and manifest. The other seemed to hold still long enough to perceive the larger picture. Neither felt complete without the other. Only later did I notice the letters. B became the one who be's—the doer, the force of manifestation. C became see—vision, awareness, the witness. The wordplay didn't create the metaphor; it simply gave names to something my ears had already understood. On a piano keyboard, B and C are separated by only a half step. There is no black key between them. That absence became part of the song. "We're just two half steps longing for our own black key" is not about wishing to become someone else. It's about recognizing that each carries a gift the other cannot fully embody alone. The missing key became a symbol for the impossible place where action and vision could exist as one. Whether listeners hear that story or discover an entirely different one is for them to decide. Songs have lives of their own once they're released. But for me, Piano will always be the memory of discovering that sometimes music understands our relationships long before words are able to explain them. Piano (Black Key): A musician's pun - but can anyone relate to the feeling of finding their other self?