The winter of 1983 -- watching the coeds dance between the strings of beads at the Friday night dance parties in the Dim Sum Room, high above the Beloit Elks Club — tap beers for 50 cents. You were my hope baby, you were my smoke. A great song and a great memory. --
not good memories, but no longer bad ones: my buds taunted me with it when i got dumped without warning. this was 83, as well. its almost celebratory for me because it freed me up for the better thing around the corner.
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I can't hear this without thinking of all the times I roller skated to it in the 80s.
I can't hear this without thinking of all the times I roller skated to it in the 80s.
The winter of 1983 -- watching the coeds dance between the strings of beads at the Friday night dance parties in the Dim Sum Room, high above the Beloit Elks Club — tap beers for 50 cents. You were my hope baby, you were my smoke. A great song and a great memory.
--
not good memories, but no longer bad ones: my buds taunted me with it when i got dumped without warning. this was 83, as well. its almost celebratory for me because it freed me up for the better thing around the corner.
That was the thing about '83, Gino -- there was always a better thing around the corner.
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