When you hear a song such as “Only Skin,” you stop dead in your tracks. You catch yourself from doing whatever it is that you’re doing at the time and you get extremely intent. You feel your skin resting on your muscles and bones like a blanket. You feel the tiny hairs growing up through the holes in that faulty blanket. You can tell that you stopped drinking whatever it was that you were drinking and you’re even trying not to swallow what you already put in your mouth. Your breathing becomes shallow and you find that you’ve slipped off your axis just a little bit, spun off into a vacuum, where nothing else holds any importance.