Four rows from Wilco

Four rows from Wilco
And the music is divine
My friend and I cheer with the audience
As hypnotic tunes direct my mind
I go in and out of trances
Energy from the crowd intensifies
While pseudo hippies perform ridiculos dances
Numerous guitars wail like screaming chickens
On the stage the leader singer calmly prances
In and out through the aisles
People storm the bar for beer
But I just stand and listen
While Jeff Tweedy tells Bush
He can kiss my rear (not even close to what he really said)
After it was over
The moment was captured and enclosed
To a special place in my head
Where I can go to remember when I forget
That the Wilco show at the Fox
Was the shit.