smoke across the spot light,
chili pot of voices, see no faces,
i fidget stage right, tap my foot from nerves.
apple is out there, pluggin in, turnin on,
messin with the microphones.
jake looks my way and alls it takes
is a nod and a smile;
he twirls a stick and starts a beat…
bass shakes the stage and it’s
alive beneath by boots,
then it’s me, walkin out there,
i sweep my hair back and step up,
uncoiling like a snake and I
let everything i feel, everything i can’t speak,
every animal in the zoo up from the
middle of me and i scream,
“bay city, are ya ready?!!!”
they are, and i
sing for em like we was all born for it.