It was cold, the town was empty and it was Omaha. Bright Eyes was crying in the corner and 311 dropped in to say “Chill!”. Yet somehow the bar we played was filled with free shots of whiskey and bunch of nice music people.
Francesca was an angel sent down to us to not only literally punch us in the stomachs but to house us all as well. Her house also contained quite the duo of a hanging witch demon from hell flying toward a two month old Xmas tree.
Andy
Local Natives
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