Instead of putting you through a compilation of every Hallelujah cover out there, I kept it at the mix title, which presents the three options each of us has post-November: 1. Cry uncontrollably, 2. Sleep, or get laid, depending on your interpretation, or 3. Stand up, put some dumb flowers around our necks, and find some people to start a fire with. There'll be dancing, a potential drowning (of tears), and someone no one invited to the party might steal your beer and start talking about America and how great again we could be. You may have to excuse yourself to hurl in a bathroom at one point. An ex may make a sloppy, unwanted move next to a tapped keg. But maybe, just maybe, for one moment, in the darkest pocket of that night, you'll walk to the sea and look at the sky and catch a star in the one hot second it decides to catapult itself through space. And as it shoots through the black, you won’t think of gun control laws or air strikes or the false light of celebrity or hotel moguls. You'll just see a star, doing its beautiful, natural thing. And you'll decide to have fun tonight, at the party, with friends, enjoying the music.

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