Sometimes, the most powerful art isn’t born from perfection - it’s born from intention. When I wrote “Railway,” I wanted to create a song that captured the impact of heartbreak without falling into clichés or violent imagery. That’s why in the lyric, instead of saying “gunshot into my soul,” I wrote:

“Shotgun into my soul.”

For me, “shotgun” isn’t a literal weapon here. It’s a metaphor for the sudden blast of emotion - the shockwave that hits your heart when love or trust shatters. It’s the force of heartbreak, not the violence of a gun. In a world where gun imagery is everywhere, I wanted to turn that idea on its head and create something poetic, something that suggests impact without glorifying harm.

Another lyric that people have noticed is:

“Lies and blames…”

Some have asked, why not “lies and blame”? For me, “blames” (even if it’s not conventional grammar) feels truer to the experience. When we’re hurt, we don’t feel just one blame - we feel accusations stacking up from all sides. That’s what I wanted to capture: not perfect grammar, but perfect emotion.

My lyrics are always a balance of music, language, and feeling. Sometimes that means breaking the “rules” to tell a story more honestly. “Shotgun into my soul” and “lies and blames” aren’t accidents. They’re deliberate choices to create a different kind of impact.

Music isn’t about perfection - it’s about connection. And if Railway hits you like a shotgun into the soul, then I know I’ve done my job.