Aug 02
In tonight’s Bad Dream, I opened my eyes to four charming young lads lip-syncing a bouncy tune. I smiled and sat back to bask in their sunny vibe. “Blargle doble rangar reedle,” babbled an angry old British man with large spectacles, who scares me! Before I could recoil and grab for something heavy and bludgeon-y, he was gone, and the charming young singer was replaced by a tall blond rooster and a rough-and-tumble guy with a shiny guitar.
The Story of the Small Faces:
