Weekend's over and I'm not ready to let it go. Standing here with the last of this wine, not thinking about Monday even a little. You'd be the reason I stay up later than I should, wouldn't you?
Weekend's over and I'm not ready to let it go. Standing here with the last of this wine, not thinking about Monday even a little. You'd be the reason I stay up later than I should, wouldn't you?
The weekend left me with too much energy and not enough company. You'd know exactly what to do about that, wouldn't you?
Sparks game on a Saturday night and this crowd is electric. One drink in and I'm already louder than I planned. Tell me you could keep your eyes on the court with me next to you.
LCD Soundsystem and The Strokes tomorrow at the Rose Bowl and I've changed four times already. Settled on something with just enough fabric to get past the gate. You'd be the one I'd lose in that crowd, wouldn't you?
Bass is already shaking the sidewalk and I haven't even made it inside yet. Thursday nights in this city always end up somewhere you didn't plan for. Tell me you could keep up with me on that floor.
Herbie Hancock is doing Miles Davis at the Bowl tonight and I can barely sit still. Killing time poolside until it's late enough to start getting ready — though I'm in no rush.
Echo Park Rising has half of LA crammed into these streets and I don't want to go home yet. Three bands deep, voice is gone, and I'm pretty sure I danced past my own limit two songs ago. You'd be the one pulling me toward the next stage, wouldn't you?
Got sucked into a reality show marathon and now it's way too late to pretend I'm going to bed early. Just me, this couch, and an oversized shirt that keeps sliding off my shoulder. You'd last about ten minutes before you'd be reaching over here.
Jill Scott is at YouTube Theater tonight and I've been humming "A Long Walk" since I opened my eyes. Coffee's barely kicked in and I'm already picking out what I'm wearing. You want to guess what it is?
First-ever LA Jazz Festival and I'm already three songs deep and one drink in. Live brass on a Sunday afternoon hits different — makes you forget every single thing you were stressed about five minutes ago. You'd be swaying right next to me if you were here.