Back in those old punk-rock days, mornings were rough enough. Public Access volunteers, we were always, always in between micing up the Tec Voc choir, and waiting for our turn to play. We were here to take your call every telethon. We were keeping jive alive at the Beausejour Senior Centre Dance. Rolling down the driver’s side, toss an ember to the night.
We end this broadcast day, we knew that it was coming. We end this broadcast day, keep the camera running on the last time.
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