Two shows in two nights and I'm paying for it at the coffee machine, still in the shirt I passed out in. Tell me you'd pour the second cup.
Two shows in two nights and I'm paying for it at the coffee machine, still in the shirt I passed out in. Tell me you'd pour the second cup.
She Wants Revenge at Webster Hall tonight and I never did make it to bed after Cypress Hill. Bath's running, eyeliner's half gone, and the rest of me is in no hurry. Tell me you'd still be up with me.
Home from Cypress Hill at Irving Plaza in one piece — the clothes, less so. The night isn't done with me yet and neither am I. Come finish it with me?
Horns on, jacket refusing to close, and the late disco set isn't going anywhere without me. Tell me the devil look works.
Kaytranada at Pacha doesn't start until ten and my Halloween costume just got a lot less costume. The mesh was the whole plan, honest. Tell me it's not too much for a dance floor.
Madison Square Garden is still a full day away and I'm raiding the fridge instead of sleeping. The fridge light is doing all the work in here — come shorten the wait.
Vince Staples at Brooklyn Steel and for once I'm dressed before I need to be. Now I've got two hours and nowhere to put them. First one in line has a nice ring to it, no?
Three hours until Thundercat turns Kings Theatre into one long bass solo and I'm still flat on this couch in yesterday's tee. The dress on the chair is winning by default at this point. You picking what stays on, or am I?
Cradle of Filth at Warsaw in Greenpoint and I've been ready since the eyeliner went on. Everything under the lace is staying home tonight. Tell me you'd survive a goth pit next to me.
Amber Mark's set at Blue Note doesn't start for hours and the dress on the closet door isn't going anywhere. Tell me how you'd fill the time before I have to leave.