This poem was written at the very beginning of my semi-obsession with this band of the same name.
 
The Paradise Motel
June 28th 1998
Stephen Clark
 
It's a long way to Revolver,
And the lighting sure is hell
But I'd go anywhere to hear
The Paradise Motel.
They came on after Kiva and
Endorphin left the scene
I waited for the band 3 hours
Because I was so keen
In contrast to the techno they
Were rocking with guitars
In parts they sounded beautiful
And twinkly like the stars
In other parts they blasted me
With noisy walls of sound
As if to make me deaf -- the air
Vibrated all around
I felt like they were pulling
Half my brain out by the stem
I felt like shouting "You're so
cool and talented!" to them.
Unhappily the time came when
The music had to stop
The alcahol was everywhere
I hadn't touched a drop
And yet, upon my exit I was
Off my face with glee
And turning cartwheels,
Caring not if anyone could see
Despite the music's sadness, it
Had put me on a high
And I will love The
Paradise Motel until I die.

 
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