Gerard sat still on the edge of his hotel room bed, His eyes shut tightly and hands holding up his head, The show tonight has left him drained and nearly dead. Only to start again in the morning. He spends a restless night between empty sheets, First thing in the morning were fan meet & greets, Singing the same songs over old and tired beats, This tour might be the death of him. The band slowly prepares for the frantic hours ahead, Some at the catering van and others still tucked in bed, Most of the guys wishing they were all at home instead,
Shit has barely begun.
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