Lost echoes of a baby boom ...

Dreams were made of nights like these:
stale tobacco blowing in the breeze,
beer spills left from the night before,
giggling faces flowing out the door,

cigarettes, whiskey, and wild crazy women
through the purple haze ever dancing and singing --
singing "Sex, and Drugs, and Rock and Roll."
We kept on dancing so we'd never grow old.

We were dancing shadows against the wall --
dark shadows in a flashing hall
where crimson and horizon blue,
pressed against a starker view,

We were pulsing beats that shook the floor
and rattled the windows ever more.
The ceiling ached from our refrain --
shrieking echoes of a primal brain.

We were disembodied troglodytes,
walking fish, stromatolites.

We were carbonated fire and ice,
permutations from the roll of the dice.