You don’t wear this shirt. You are this shirt. You’ve slept in a van, sold grilled cheese for gas money, and cried during “Althea.” You’ve time-traveled during “Drums > Space,” made lifelong friends in a parking lot, and lost your shoes somewhere in Ohio. And yeah — you definitely know a guy.
This is for the road dogs, the set chasers, and the tie-dye philosophers. No barcode. No destination. Just the next show.
