I went to my drumming the night before last
Our group was small, but the beat was fast
I played on the bass and the conga drum
It’s a casual group, and we have so much fun
Someone on cymbals; another played chimes
The latter helps us to play in time
The tambourines made a jangling sound
We played together; the music profound
Passion abounded as we played out our hearts
And before we knew it, an hour had passed
Time to stop for some snacks and a brew*
Then, in walked three men that none of us knew
I was really frightened; who were these men?
Walking amongst us like familiar friends
They sat themselves down like they belonged there
I wanted to run, but I was too full of fear
They said not to move as they carried knives
So there was no way we were risking our lives
Sitting silently, hoping they would go
Was this a nightmare or a horror show?
They started to damage our instruments
Our fear and anxiety were so immense
Drunk off their faces but high on cocaine
We thought we’d never get out again
One of our group took out their phone
It got grabbed and onto the floor it was thrown
Then they suddenly left; every single one
It was over as quickly as it had begun
We called the police but they couldn’t come
Too busy, they said; we sat feeling numb
They’d call round to see us the following day
Asked if we were hurt and were we okay
We picked up the pieces; couldn’t wait to get out
What the hell was that all about?
I came home still shocked and went straight to bed
Will this ordeal ever leave my head?
*A brew is a common British word for a pot or mug of tea.
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