ungrounded raze that first night we played together, they tried to goad me into buying cigarettes. we were all underage. i looked the oldest out of everyone. they told me no one was going to card me. i didn't buy it. i wouldn't do it. tyson bashed a drum kit that looked like it somehow survived a house fire that decimated everything else. current coiled through a torn microphone cable and stung my lips each time they tapped the grille. sing, steve screamed at me. fucking sing. i gave him what he thought he wanted when i wasn't getting electrocuted. gord recorded the mess we made on a boombox. it wasn't anything special. just a few chords in search of songs. but i'd kill to relive the day i borrowed the tape so i could steal it or dub myself a copy. it's long gone now. none of the rest of them ever cared enough to preserve the precious things. 230217 what's it to you? who go blather from