Bowl again

You get a shiver in the dark
It's a rainin' in the park, but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowin' Dixie double four time
You feel alright when you hear the music ring...

Another day, another bowl, another shot at improving photography...

And now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Comin' in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in other places...
Oh but the horns they blowin' that sound
Way on down south, way on down south London town

Rigged up a pauper's light box: attached a sheet of black paper to a chair with drafting tape, secured an IKEA lamp (outfitted with an incandescent bulb) to my computer desk with a stapler.

You check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
But he's strictly rhythm he doesn't wanna make it cry or sing
They've said an old guitar is all he can afford
When he gets up under the lights to play his thing

Light was too bright; covered the lamp with a tea towel.

And Harry doesn't mind, if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's doin' alright
He can play the honky tonk like anything
Savin' it up, Friday night...
With the Sultans... with the Sultans of Swing

Few obvious bad shots for warm-up. Oh, fuck this. Thank God I have a day job. Oh, wait, that ends in April.

And a crowd of young boys they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn 'bout any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
And the Sultans... yeah the Sultans, they play Creole

Forgot about the whole world once I started shooting the right stuff. I am sure I was smiling.

And then the man he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time bell rings
'Goodnight, now it's time to go home'
And he makes it fast with one more thing
'We are the Sultans... We are the Sultans of Swing'

Little Man's bed time. Gotta study for exam part 4. Dishwasher needs loading. Clean clothes need folding. No idea what to cook for dinner tomorrow.

Hot bath sounds really good... We are the Sultans... We are the Sultans of Swing.

Sultans of Swing
lyrics: Dire Straits