It’s 1974 and you’re walking down a dusk street, no one around but a few passing cars as you lean against the wall of an avant-garde night club; few go in and out of it. Lit up by dim street lights, you enjoy the sweet sound of David Bowie easing your night as you gaze up at the stars, gently tapping your foot to the beat, smiling.
I'm Happy, Hope You're Happy Too 