With the ears still ringing, the lights come up,
And the crowd shuffles drunk to the doors,
The haze and blare of the show is gone,
replaced with cigarette smoke
and chatter.
And as the last few stumble out into the fresh winter air,
each with their throat stinging from
singing too hard,
that moment is shared.
They all hold the memories of a few hours,
Where nothing mattered but
honest angry songs and
having fun.
And in an hour, perhaps they'll all have headaches
or collapse, shattered wrecks on the streets,
but not one will regret that shared
moment of defiance.
A night of standing up and believing we don't have to
let the miserable world get to us.
An evening together, and for no purpose, and for only one reason:
Music.