A low hum shatters the screams of the audience
As they emerge on stage.
The trio makes for quite a sight:
The beady-eyed, mischievous drummer,
A bare-footed caveman on bass,
Their shaggy, blonde leader.
-Kings of simplicity
-Personifications of “grunge”
-Deemed the reluctant voices of a generation

At last, the captivating chaos commences.
The skin of the drum thunders in rebellion,
Discordant melodies ring forth with each drastic strum,
Like swaying feathers caught inside a churning tornado.
A small laugh,
A tossed bass,
The surfing crowd…
And then the lights fade away. And they’re gone…

Crimson teardrops infect the walls around the scene.
Complete strangers shed irrepressible tears.
Blue, blue eyes never to open again…
Their now dusty instruments trapped behind polished glass cases.
A soul scattered in the sea, caught in Love’s box.
Yet, never forgotten…