| Re: La Bouée
Hmm, smelling a bit musty but I suppose that's better than stale beer.
*checks lights, goes "one, chew" into a couple of microphones, in a fairly desultory fashion, then checks the tuning on the piano, while turning the fans up to high, to circulate the air a bit.*
Oh when the rain beats down and melts the snow off from the trees
And your feet get so cold, you wish your tired blood was antifreeze
Inside the greenhouse, safe from the storm,
Wrapped in blanket and in baby, I'm nice and warm.
Looks up. Oops, forgot to turn the mics back off… |