The text was not vital but the message still rings
The photos were all blurry but you get the feeling that they scream
The tub was stained with the ink from the screen
You're holding on to something, but it's not in that zine
The floor is filled with resin on the place where you're to sleep
If you have enough to drink you can pretend that it's a sheet
Eye contact's scarce from the host of the show
And there's still hours to go, there's still hours to go

Grab our decks and head down the street, looking for a placе to kill time
See a kid posting flyers on Sherman and Pinе
In big and bold was the name of the band, with black shirts and white belts
But nowhere on the flyer did it say the name "The Van Pelt"
We made our appeal, "hey man, what's the deal?"
He said "well it really doesn't matter, since no-one's coming anyhow
There's a bigger show down at the Crocodile
In fact I'll be there myself if you wanna come through after yours
Oh, and they'll be coming back to our place too, so save some room on the floor."

I don't remember much about the show that we played
Except that no-one could make out a single word I had to say
We loaded up in haste and debated what to do
Do we stick it out here or make a move, or make a move?
Kiara approached and asked what we had to sell
And if we need a place to sleep she has a sofa as well
Tomorrow she works at Fuel Cafe on 5th street
Feel free to swing by before you leave
Have you had enough to eat? (Kiara)
'Cause Alibaba's open late (Kiara)
Where's the next stop on your route? (Kiara)
I've got some friends I'll give a shout (Kiara)

(The drummer's disappeared while his kit takes up the stage
Cumin in the sheetrock, kitchen sink all full of plates
Patronisingly serene, the Krishna's judgement intervenes
The couch is in the yard where I sit down to change my strings)