She was pointing at us to sing and we sang. “Linger,” “Ode to My Family,” “Ridiculous Thoughts,” “Salvation,” “Free to Decide,” “ZOMBIE,” “Dreams.” All the classics transported the crowd back into our high school bedrooms, our empowered angst. I sang along my until my stomach was tense and my throat was raw, knowing way more lyrics than I remember knowing, and it seemed as if everybody else was in similar suit of sounding just like the Irish rockstar, of channeling her beauty, of being her fans, her sea, and, ultimately, her choir.

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