we had played a club in san fran and i was driving into the sunrise torwards home and all the boys are asleep in the van and i'm humming quietly to myself to stay awake and up ahead, framed into the horizon looms this pear shaped grey cloud that reveals itself to be smoke as i am covering the distance rapidly and blink-it's an explosion that shoots flames higher than i can see through the window of the van and by this time i am starting to feel a coldness of certainty and then i crane my head and pass the station wagon full of people who are being pushed by the waves of flames forward until their necks bow gracefully as in supplication before being arched backward by the demanding fire and their necks fall back, leaving the jaws to open wide and the whole cycle of movement bears an uncanny resemblance to the autumn leaves that sway on trees before detaching and falling quietly to the earth.