Don't look at my face, it's all covered in soot.

First this:

RIGHT THERE, THAT'S A FINE SONG. Sorry for all-caps. Either way I get screwed.

**

Well,

we started a band

and things didn't end well.

Remember?

Van broke down

on the night we were supposed to

unveil our lounge act.

So, instead of

panties dropping in the front row

and the record execs said,

"Now that'll fill some seats

at an east coast venue."

We pushed a maroon Econoline

into a K-Mart parking lot

and cleaned the dust from a Marshall stack

while tuning a Gibson,

drinking bottles of Genuine Draft

that floated in two-day-old cooler water.

Sitting in a circle,

humming the songs

that were supposed to get us laid.