The dropping of the beat

The wail of the singer

Takes me back to her apartment

Incense stick burning

45 rotating

Music spreading into the evening’s thunderstorm

We sat on beanbags

Soaking in rhythm and humidity

Condensation on beer cans

Sweat on foreheads

Whale brand smokes smouldering on a plate

Dishes soaking in the sink

Heartbeats thumping in time

With a banging track

From the minds of two boys from liverpool 

Echoing out of the speakers

Echoing out of time

Speaking across sonic frontiers

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