this is what my dreams look like

only, in my dream, he doesn't walk - he floats.
and, in my dream, you can hear the tingles that the really good parts make on my skin.
they sound like a hundred tiny, laughing cymbals.
then these guys come along...

and cause a bit of a frenzy.
the cymbals turn angry, so we all use the guitars like swords, and it gets a touch medieval - bystanders in paper crowns, gnawing at huge chicken legs - but we win, and float off down the cobblestone, whistling and laughing and cymbaling.

(thanks LaBlogotheque)

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