It is almost one o'clock in the morning, I'm far from being drunk. You know the blood alcohol bastard that keeps you from going home, but is not sufficiently advanced to allow you to land anywhere with your eyes closed. I find myself facing a cruel dilemma: go home, or accompany my friends to a nightclub. In the heat of the action (or rather in the heat of alcohol), I decided to go there, sure I'm drunk enough for me wiggle "mechanically" on what I presume to call music car bumper.
Only now, after an hour of intense suffering to endure a miserable mix, because of any stalling technically and musically staggering, naturalness takes over. I find myself alone in my bad trip, only to be paralyzed by the music around me while everyone bursts, or at least everyone comes naturally to dance on this "music".
So I'm leaving. The sweet melody of my old Underground Construction I miss. I hasten to go home to feel the warmth of their low wonderfully romantic invade me.
Ironically, I'm loving myself. Vener face of so much "I care less musical. Most of them do not appreciate music, it shows, it is hinted, but they dance and whoop (commendable because I'd like, but am not). Take
please realize that such behavior does not condone the fact that decreasing demand for the music box ...
Whereupon, after a good dump hardhouse old skool, I'm going to sleep "the new girl next door" and their dose of good humor
... He'll have it for me forget such torture ...
Only now, after an hour of intense suffering to endure a miserable mix, because of any stalling technically and musically staggering, naturalness takes over. I find myself alone in my bad trip, only to be paralyzed by the music around me while everyone bursts, or at least everyone comes naturally to dance on this "music".
So I'm leaving. The sweet melody of my old Underground Construction I miss. I hasten to go home to feel the warmth of their low wonderfully romantic invade me.
Ironically, I'm loving myself. Vener face of so much "I care less musical. Most of them do not appreciate music, it shows, it is hinted, but they dance and whoop (commendable because I'd like, but am not). Take
please realize that such behavior does not condone the fact that decreasing demand for the music box ...
Whereupon, after a good dump hardhouse old skool, I'm going to sleep "the new girl next door" and their dose of good humor
... He'll have it for me forget such torture ...
Funky J - Dance ALLNIT (visual mix)
Joe Naw-T-Boy - Pumpin 'is fist
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