The trumpet splits some notes, the piano is waiting for somebody to hammer his keys, the seat is empty. The waitress is waiting for his dream to happen while staring at the void. Miles Davis is in everybodys remembrances, good old times are over, but we are here tonight and we are going to make it happen. Tonight we can dream again. Tomorrow we will go back to the present, but for now, let´s live in the past. It feels good.