You know how it is.
You start a band.
You survive the first scream.
You even pick a name. 
Then comes the hard part:
you have to actually sound like something.

So you go looking for the perfect echo,
the sonic glue to hold
the whole broken thing together.
You hunt for it in the city's biggest, emptiest spaces,
but it turns out they're not so empty.
They're just full of echoes you really don't want.

What can you do? Follow a rumor to a place
that's been holding its breath for twenty years?

Yeah...
Guess so.

It's a ten-mile-wide indoor ocean,
made mostly of concrete and broken dreams.
Not sure who's bad idea this thing was,
but it was our salvation,
as well as the beginning of new friendships,
new dangers, and most importantly: 
new sounds.