Sweet Caroline wasn’t my best decision,
but I wasn’t embarrassed.
We were all in one of those moods
where we didn’t sit upright
and all our wrongs were slipped in our back pocket.
And then he sang about a boxer.
I swam in his melody
and the gin and tonics I couldn’t stop ordering.
The cheap rainbow disco lights
couldn’t have been more inappropriate.
The crowd helped him finish the final chorus: