We drove all night, arriving around dawn. We staggered
wearily into the hotel restaurant, and as I sat there mesmerized by the aroma
of coffee, eggs, and bacon, it slowly dawned on me through the fog of fatigue that
music was playing in the room.
The first song I was aware of was a slow, quiet song – a mellow-voiced man singing about “Sweet dreams and Flying Machines in pieces on the ground”. The album continued to play, and as I listened more closely to the songs, I realized that I was hearing something special but I had no idea who the singer was.
The first song I was aware of was a slow, quiet song – a mellow-voiced man singing about “Sweet dreams and Flying Machines in pieces on the ground”. The album continued to play, and as I listened more closely to the songs, I realized that I was hearing something special but I had no idea who the singer was.