imagine we're all in a parking lot right now years and years ago waiting to get into the post or maybe we're in a lot up in Maine waiting to get into the speedway, nothing but miles and miles of intrigue coming up, speculations being drawn up, beers going down, grill cheese and crystals in each row of cars, someone yells at their dog Cassidy, looking for a last copy of duprees, but when they come out on stage reality hits imagination and swirls everyone up and away until it's dark and you're back in the lot again, having a well deserved brew and looking for your car for the next two hours