Page 8 of Strike A Chord

And with the bartenders busy slinging drinks

There’s no one watching the room

Now’s our chance to slip away

No one will notice we’re both gone

Chorus:

Break it up

Or you’ll miss the show

Break it up

What the fuck do you know

Break it up

Just you wait and see

Break it up

Chill the fuck out, or leave

The crowd is out of control, chanting for another show

Encore’s done, time to roll

We better get the fuck out before it comes to blows

Break it up

Shows over

Break it up

Before the cops throw you under

Break it up

It’s time to leave

Break it up

You’ve already caused a scene

Just fucking go home

Break it up

It’s high time you leave

A single finger salute held high above your head

Make no mistakes, we get what you said

They enjoyed hearing me play and that was a serious aphrodisiac. I swear to god I was rock-fucking-hard. This shit did it for me. Screaming fans, wailing on my guitar. Pure fucking magic.

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