Famous Last Words..

Music.
More then just something to ddance to.
Words. Sounds. Instruments. Cute Band Boys.
There's t he sweat and the tears.
Some hard work, and some fears.
Screaming fans, stereotypical opening bands.
Long hours with fans, with nothing to keep you sane
No matter what happens each night, you'll just be back on that same old plane
It's the chills through the spine, that prooves everything's fune.
The stage is yours to own.
A beat of a drum, the simple sound of a guitars' strum
The rumble from a bass, and the lead's a nutcase
The music starts, the words come easy
Girls are screaming on the top of their lungs
He's looking down and smiling
He says to himself " what have I got to lose?"
Jumps back on his feet..
"I hope you brought your dancing shoes"

So you think that my life is a paycheque..