Saturday looks good to me, ett band jag hittade någon gång under tvåtusenfem.
Så jävla geniala texter:

"Now you wonder why the notes are always bruised and bent
You think that it's your song but it's your instrument
You want to turn invisible and try again
I'll kiss you in the kitchen and I'll count to ten
And then when you wake up
All of this will just have been a dream"