The veterans hall
Once I was at a show at an old veteran’s hall.
So many people packed the room, you could barely move at all.
Kids slam dancing in the circle pit brought energy.
No one was embarrassed to sing in harmony.
As if the sweat, torn clothes, and spilt drinks bound us all like glue,
I let out frustration with someone I never knew.
Most of us had never met, still were singing arm in arm.
In the pit we feel responsibility that no one falls to harm.
This is what it means to me, a punk rock show ideally.
For this set we all are one united by the music we live and love.