Sonically, the instruments of Confess couldn’t be described as “still” – they whirr with the freeway breeze of a motorcycle ride. Our narrator’s devotion to fast living follows suit. Unlike the partner he’s speaking to, Lewis would rather remain in motion than become “still” and be forced to evaluate his actions. Thus his attempts to forge a meaningful connection end up “broken.”

When you think about it, Lewis and the NBA’s Dwight Howard really aren’t much different: they’re both “players” who have a difficult time sticking to commitments. As much as Lewis wants to bare his soul to this woman and treasure her love, he finds his feelings to be “absurd.” Like Howard, Lewis seems to prefer free agency.

Deem the word “movie” to be a metaphor for vicious, limitless cycle of drama that fuels Lewis’ life. We’re talking about the greed, anxiety, and jadedness he creates and abides. Even bad boys require catharsis, and when all is said and done, crying appears to be the most satisfying release of his welled-up tension.

When you portray yourself to be a no-nonsense playboy, the concept of “taking it slow” probably seems a bit uninviting. Thus, our narrator expresses chagrin with the woman he’s referring to here. As much has he needs to express his adoration, he feels stonewalled by her white-knuckle response to his advances.