Imagine satisfied lions sleeping well in the shadow of a beautiful tree somewhere in Africa. The flies are all around: buzzing, biting and drinking lions’ blood. They are drinking the Kings’ blood. What a sophisticated aristocrats these insects are! They drink the cocktails out of the big cats, having no idea that The Beatles are so nearby. The shadow of The Beatles, the Legacy of the Supergroup is right here, in front of them. What do Kings dream of? Of course, The Beatles! Only the Kings dream of The Beatles everytime they go to sleep. And it is The Beatles only the Kings see every time they close their eyes. No any other mortals are allowed to such a dreaming. No any other Beatles are allowed to the Lions’ heads and subconsciousness. But it’s not the only trouble of being the Kings, oh no!
The flies are always all around to drink your blood, steal your smiles and energy, suck you out and make you look funny in front of yourself. This is an ugly feeling. They suck out your potential, glory, talent, they use you and leave you on your own, so you have to go solo. So the King is only happy when he dreams. It’s a sad moment, because the real world demands for new hits; and when you close your eyes you see the golden days of pop music. You hear songs like “Eleanor Rigby”, knowing that this song is all about you. There was a time when it was just a good song for you. But the time changes us all. And the Kings get old, too. And they see Eleanor Rigby in their own reflections everytime they drink water from a calm river looking sad and dead. They see Father McKenzie dancing with a reproach on his pale face. He’s dancing so furiously as if it is his last chance to dance with the King. He’s trying to say the King is lonely as if he hasn’t known that. And so they are dancing and hugging till the tears start running down their sad old faces. Then both just stare at each other, thinking that a vis-à-vis is just a mirage.
Multi-platinum albums, millions of followers and maniacs are just a mirage when you’re the Dreaming King. I wonder if they see dreams of the whole thing started, when they were young, hungry and not paid. The Kings can write beautiful songs which are to stay with us forever. And everytime we hear those songs being sung by someone else we think about the glory and the greatness of the Kings sleeping like lions. And we forget about the blood-cocktails and flies. It is hard to be the Kings, dreaming about The Beatles, because they’d stay forever young and smiling with their band name monumental and seeming not to be even real. Those Lions’ dreams are always looped and consist of memories and simple things without any charts, fans and glamour. Simple things like writing a great song of love and loneliness. That’s why lions smile often when they sleep – they don’t feel any bites and pressure. They are young and almighty like it’s the beginning of the carrier. And they never die or break up in their dreams. Only in their dreams.
