The Harriers Days

In the queue, trying to make yourself look older
Fake ID, looking over your shoulder.
You get by Eyebrows, straight to the bar,
A fourteen year old rock n roll star.
Get tanked up on booze,
You have nothing to lose.
The DJ is going to be a safe bet,
To play the inevitable slow set.
As the love music starts, in the crowd rushes,
And you find yourself outside, puking in the bushes.

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