The Sound of Music
A D chord.
Twanged from the battered, beat-up old telecaster in the roadie’s hands. It’s his brief moment of fame in front of thousands.
They are a crowd consisting of craning necks, crowning t-shirt and jeans combinations.
Just waiting. And waiting.
Because it would be more than worth it. The ticket cost more than an arm and a leg. But it would be worth it.
And for his last trick, the roadie disappears.
His moment will come again tomorrow.
Another venue, another crowd, another D chord.
Not the music that they came to see, but a vital part of the musical beast.