It's Good to Be Home
It's been too damn long.
And what else is there to do when her boyfriend's just flown into town, but to jump on to the dancefloor feeling "But she's touching his chest now / He takes off her dress now / Let me go / And I just can't look / It's killing me" pulse with new meaning?
Suddenly, everything is fresh again: the deep booms and high shards of sound from the speakers; the rush from the opening bars of a favourite song; the lunging against walls when the feeling is too much to take. The charming naivete of teenage boys in blazers, and the delicious proximity of young girls who seem to know too much.
The madness of everyone appearing to know the lyrics of every song, and the joy in remembering many of them myself, even if I haven't heard them in a year.
And this time--the four of us--we did it with no trips to the toilet, no beer runs, no retiring to the sofas...just dancing to the point of exhaustion, dancing away our working-world frustrations, our white-collar stupidity, our small and embarrassing existences, just the way it was meant to be.
And what else is there to do when her boyfriend's just flown into town, but to jump on to the dancefloor feeling "But she's touching his chest now / He takes off her dress now / Let me go / And I just can't look / It's killing me" pulse with new meaning?
Suddenly, everything is fresh again: the deep booms and high shards of sound from the speakers; the rush from the opening bars of a favourite song; the lunging against walls when the feeling is too much to take. The charming naivete of teenage boys in blazers, and the delicious proximity of young girls who seem to know too much.
The madness of everyone appearing to know the lyrics of every song, and the joy in remembering many of them myself, even if I haven't heard them in a year.
And this time--the four of us--we did it with no trips to the toilet, no beer runs, no retiring to the sofas...just dancing to the point of exhaustion, dancing away our working-world frustrations, our white-collar stupidity, our small and embarrassing existences, just the way it was meant to be.
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