It was an old wooden dance hall in a blue-collar town
And an old rock and roll band
On its way down.
A cold winter evening
The dance hall was packed
Two hundred young people
An old rock and roll act.
All the beautiful daughters
All the passionate sons
And the poor old musicians
Who were beautiful once
It was the white flash
It was the flame we all know
The flash of the deal and the press and the money
When you're in the big show
The band took the bandstand
And hit the first chord
And a fountain of fire
Rose up from the floor.
Once they played in a stadium
And shot sparks to the sky
But the old dance hall ceiling
Was nine feet high.
All the sons and the daughters
Who were packed in the hall
Thought it was a light show,
The fire on the wall.
It was the white flash
It was the flame of success
The flash of the girls and the money and the dream
And your name in the press.
INST.
All the beautiful daughters
All the handsome mill hands
Inside of five minutes
They died at the dance.
Beautiful children in their 20s and teens
Killed by men with long hair
And their rock and roll dreams.
What we do to the children
Out of pure vanity
I pray God protect them from you and from me
It was an old wooden dance hall
In a blue-collar town
And an old rock and roll band
They burned the place down.
Here's a flower on the ashes
Here's a prayer for them all
All the sons and daughters
In that old dance hall.
© Garrison Keillor 2003