God Save the Kinks?

This morning in the space between my hitting the snooze button and the second alarm going off I dreamt an entire Sex Pistols concert.

I was in high school again and the show was apparently part of some school function. It was being held in an open-air venue, maybe the school's football field. There were tall bleachers leading to a plateau at the top of which I sat with Rachelle.

As the band broke into the first chords of God Save The Queen the people in the row beneath us all stood and ran, in tight formation, diagonally down the steps. The bottom row had also stood and ran opposite, towards us in an exact parallel course. This maneuver also took place through the crowd in the open expanse in front of the stage, front and back rows exchanging places. The audience, aside from this obviously rehearsed spectacle, had little reaction to the start of the show.

God Save The Queen had quickly melded into Anarchy In The UK. Looking on stage, John Lydon seemed in good shape, moving as if he were a young man. He moved well, in fact - in perfect unison with the back-up dancers. Everyone in the band was dancing, practiced choreography that appeared lifted from the Backstreet Boys. Upon closer inspection I saw that the bass player was not Glen Matlock nor Sid Vicious but was instead himself a former member of the Backstreet Boys (or maybe it was N'SYNC - who can tell the difference?). The band seemed to be enjoying themselves.

I was in the parking lot looking back. Before the first song ended the fans had begun moving toward their dirty cars to go home.

I woke up singing a Kinks song in my head.