The basement scene is dark and dusty, with the musty smell of stale air. Cbwebs dangle overhead and people stumble down the stairs.
Let's get this party started, yo! The band are in the corner of the floor. Their songs are pretty kick-a**. We're dancing like we've never danced before.
The music is loud, the kids are so young; all over the world, they wanna have fun. The music is so loud and it drowns out the talk all over the world . . .
JUST GIVE US MORE ROKK
The kitchen scene is damp and sticky. They're lined up at the keg of PBR. We're yelling conversations, while through the floor you hear the keyboards and guitar.
I'm getting kind of antsy; I just came up here to get some air.
This isn’t where the music’s at! I guess I’m going back down there!
The music is loud, the night is so young; all over the world, we wanna have fun.
The music gets louder -- please don’t call the cops!
The basement scene is hot and sweaty, bodies packed from wall to wall. The band are tearing through their set and the encore is the best of all.
Let's keep this party goin', yo! We’ve got nowhere else to be!
Someone yells, "Less talk, more rokk!" (mostly un-ironically)
 dyejob · Wed Apr 02, 2008 @ 09:24am · 0 Comments |
