My knees were tired and sore
the boredom of the first opening acts
When no one knows the words
It leaves little room for complete enjoyment
As soon as the curtain interval was lifted
I was smiling
As the intro hit
My knees began to twitch
As i relected the lyrics back on to the stage
My mouth turned dry
Having such a impulse
Left me with no second geussing
Of my actions and movements
Encore:
His pink hair was so hot
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem