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Adam Smith May 2013
Im gonna mic this **** up and EQ it out, make the speakers ring now so we can scream and shout, and it wont feedback; till you hear "Back in Black", when the bass line hits all across the pan, and I redline that **** cause its my ******* Jam.

Peaking dBs on all of the meters. Blowing out the cabs and frying the tweeters. We smashed our guitars so let the keg flow. How else would you end a ******* awesome show?

Watch the roadies pack up, but give them respect. They do a lot more than you woud ever expect.

An after party now and were burning it down. Stumble back to the bus and to the next town. To start it all over for another go round.
If hatred was a pencil, I’d write your name and address on the subscription form in every magazing in the world and mail them in.

If hatred was a marker, I’d write a rude comment and sign your name on every wall in town.

If hatred was a telephone I’d autodial your number a hundred times both day and night.

If hatred was a needle, I’d poke it into every VooDoo dolly I could find.

If hatred was a letter, I’d threaten every elected official with a grave injury and sign your name.

If hatred was a song I’d play it at 180 DBs in your back yard, twenty-four-seven.

If hatred was your Cadillac I’d key it til the last shred of it’s paint was gone.

If hatred was a poison, which it is, I must research an antidote...

It seems my hatred’s really killing the one that I love best -  and that is me.
ljm
An old hate rears its ugly head.

— The End —