Holy shit. M'è out along this well. Sorry, eh.
Two rounds of ties to amphibians, a node and socks on. It 'hard work, with broken breath, the heart rate accelerated and the hair on the face.
My hair arrive at the chest and are needed because they protect me. Can I get in front of the stage for even a few hundred people, but I have between me and them my bass and my hair.
The sound that comes from that electrostatic golem of my amp and speakers, left, makes it appear that the Russian stage until the four of us decide not to wake him up, until the music take-away seems to me low-and remote that they put on to change the setting of the group that played before us will not give in to our way to our music, to be eaten hot right away.
Right, there is everything. There is a ladder (a fickle little chap but you want to enforce) is that the effects pedals, horizontal, and with its lights in the right place, is the seductive with the microphone at the top of the auction above. Then there are the boxes of rocks to spy on the reef before the end of the stage, after which begins the stretch of the shoulders and heads now calm and that will begin in the first wave and then to mosh in a storm.
people, me, people do not look at it. I already know, who's there.
In the front row there are those who We are always hearing and, on my side, the young bass players who will take care fingerings, effects and tricks, which they offered me a drink and a smoke, some before the concert and some will offer it to me later. In the bottom or at the counter, other groups and bass players the same level of those with whom you are playing in the evenings local, drink, and we recommend that the common effort to put a little 'in Seattle in the middle of the flat bread and wine. I think
Who knows where we are, who knows how we will remember him, I know that we do not arrive until 2000, that there are still a lot of years, I hope I die before I get old.
In between, many people. I smile because I think that if you're on a stage to make the volume of rock right and good, you can afford to fart in front of a lot of people and no one will notice anything.
behind the fifth and I-2 or 3 feet from head-the three lights of different colors that will make even more warm my night and my right arm, resting on the lower body, will also start to tingle with their Progressive Bloc hand, if I did the warm up exercises as you have to drink more beer. Then
remain kneeling, moving the hand from the sternum straps and bottom and look ahead.
I watch them.
He looks in turn, however, three-quarter-smiles and, Petermann, chin high, a hand playing with a stick and the other with sticks sbilinare strange hi-hat or tom. He feels the tension, but it gives me security. We are very different and he is already a man while I I hope I die before I get old and often we do not take such ideas, but on stage we're the fucking rhythm section and we are a long, and it shows.
His snare shot falls when it falls on my fingerprint strong rope, and together we make a wall that drops the glasses from the amplifiers and up the ass from the chairs. And we trust us.
GG, born on the day of the year when Jimi Hendrix died, I do not see. Probably-because-I think I've seen in many different ways, including a lot of times with blows of life seemed too much I tried to I hope I die before I get old . Accorda, muove le misteriose manopoline che stanno aggrappate alla testata del suo amplificatore e calpesta il sentiero invisibile da lì alla pedaliera dei suoi effetti (disinvolta nei confronti del rispettivo microfono quanto la mia). Ci siam visti crescere e, se le birrette sono state un numero consono, siam capaci di trasformare i secondi tra pezzo e pezzo in minuti di cabaret.
Babs, che sta in piedi in mezzo a un palco, tra lei e la gente non ha niente se non la sua voce. La guardo mentre salta, cammina, si aggira consumando i secondi prima del'inizio in un' inconsapevole ed iperattiva danza propiziatoria. Dicono che sia figa, soprattutto sul palco. Io non lo so, io ci ho avuto troppo a che fare; is no longer a girl, for me, is one of the group. But by how you look at those under the stage, I think those who say that pussy c'han their reasons. Then, soon, he pulls out that voice and those here in front of the door where he wants them.
I'll slam his cock. I broke my breath, the heart rate accelerated and the hair on the face. I stand up to slap me and I just want to hear from spotlights the snare drum in his chest, the box in the belly, the distortion of the guitar and the melody of voices, as I try to remain standing despite the sound and the blast products wood I have in my hands and my amp.
I want to be overwhelmed by the sound distorted and stop thinking, I want to to happen again this time the four of us do not sweat but that's about 'I'm fucking stage you shine, I want I hope I die before I get old.
the music stops precooked. It takes four
.
start with.
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