This is the story of my dinner,
At Rossini's where I was a winner,
Ala Italiano is what they got,
But pasta and pizza they serve me not.
Beautiful place and oh I was awed,
And we at the table began to thaw,
In came the DJs, them who picked my choice,
Now I see the face that goes with the voice.
As laughter and music float in the air,
Our questions the DJs patiently hear,
How they work I now understand more,
And to the station my loyalty pours.
A photo with them have I for mem'ry,
Plus tips and secrets shared in revelry,
I left at ten with a smile and a sigh,
To say it wasn't fun, that would be a lie.
No comments:
Post a Comment