Friday night in 1995
Waiting for the Red Rocket to Pull in
Drop in with speed
land underneath the tree
Then this night is gonna get started

In a zip and whizz
the eagle has landed
Hop into the front seat

Rolling Joints as we go
First stop
The Milner street pad

who will be there ?

four hip and high cats
puffing on snipes
with guitars on the floor
and doodles on the wall

this is a far out spot
where we will wonder and ponder the existence of small town life
pass around blunts
and talk some more..
minutes flow like a psychedelic waterfall
with intertwining colours churning into everlasting hours
Memories made that I carry to this day

There will be no talk of sport or the last fight
cause over here we dont roll with testosterone
But with hungry minds
Cassettes play the tunes of the hour
Heavy riffs and indie trips
have carried these few youths away
once again we broken free from this small town living
become larger than life in this tiny room
were the social outcasts come to play...