In the old disco hall, once filled by many and now empty and condemned, a man in white would walk to the center...And snap his fingers. Instantly, lights began to flash and music started to play....Reminiscent of an age, long ago as he started to sing.
"Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk,
I'm a woman's man, no time to talk.
Music loud and women warm.
I've been kicked around since I was born.
And now it's all right, it's O.K.
And you may look the other way.
We can try to understand
The New York Times' effect on man.
Whether you're a brother
Or whether you're a mother,
You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
Feel the city breakin'
And ev'rybody shakin'
And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
Ah, ha, ha, ha,
Relaxing from the Saturday Night live pose, he chuckled and spoke aloud, the hall reverting to its modern look as his power faded.
"I love these songs....Like prayers spoken in my name....And so fitting for my situation as well. For me....I just try to stay alive....Any way I can."