Lebannalim

Bonham The well rehearsed mantra I'd had since before I could remember replays in my mind; your name is John Bonham and you were born to play drums. I sit on the stool, staring numbly at the drum kit with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. The crowd screams for the band to come on, to feed their ears with heavily beaten anthems of love and bitter feuds. Not able to wait any longer, I shout at them to start. A cascade of thunderous timpani signals the start of the first song, teasing the guitar and bass to join in before Robert starts spouting lyrics, his golden hair bouncing to the drums and stage lighting. After the music starts, time stops