The night was hazed with strobe lights
    Blinding faces of those 'round.
Bowling ***** were roaring their way
     Proclaim war against the pins
Drinks were downed with unquenchable thirst
       One after another
The music seeped through the floors, walls, and chairs
      Causing them to try and shake it out
        Only to be dancing with the rest
And then I became a blurred face
       A captain of war
          A consumer of happiness
              A soul moved by vibrations in the air.
                            On a Friday.