Two rooms,
One is sea foam green,
And the other is burnt orange,
And they are always full,
Of ****** and guitar.

Aggressive strumming echos,
Over ambulance sirens,
And flashes of red and blue,
Accustics bounce around,
As ****** does ensue.

Singing from the seafoam room,
Screaming from the orange,
And they harmonize together,
Delivering a bizarre comfort,
Listening to ****** and guitar.