There is a collective
misguided
assumption,
that we know the words.
Singing like rusted taps,
gargling and spluttering
our way to the chorus
where enthusiasm trumps
experience,
and pipes swell and burst
so all is noise
and furious revelry.
The wave of it crests
breaks,
washes us along
to the next line.
As real as the misting
of our breaths
as we sing.
The cold is not felt
in the thick of it.
Carol J Forrester 
But maybe sometimes, the melody matters more than the words of the song.
Your poem rises like a saxaphone crescendo. Excellent!
In true revelry, no heat, cold, or pain is ever felt. Nicely done!
I love the last two lines. We get caught up so easily in the madness.
Nice description: “The wave of it crests
breaks,
washes us along
to the next line.” It describes how I feel at most amusement parks. One can’t comfortably stand still. I suspect that is how New Orleans feels at Mardi Gras.
This reminds me of spending New Year’s Eve in Boston. Drinking and fireworks definitely distracted from the cold!
My husband took our daughter to her first big football match this weekend. She came home buzzing, with stories of being caught up in the mood of the crowd. You have so reminded me of that, you capture that wave of emotion perfectly.
We don’t feel anything when caught up in the excitement, whether it’s carnival, a football match or even a protest march. I love the singing
like rusted taps, ‘gargling and spluttering our way to the chorus’ and being
washed along to the next line. You’ve captured that collective excitement, Carol!
Your poem poses an important question in critique of the new age adage of ‘mind over matter’ or as you said, “enthusiasm trumps experience.” We are caught up in riptides of sensationalism everyday on social media and in general offline society as well, and often, the ‘viral’ status of a story makes us lose our focus. Perhaps sometimes it might be good to be swept away in whirligig public opinion or displays of revelry, but I can’t truthfully affirm that. You do so well in describing what this process physiologically feels like.
I think I should like to be on one of the balconies overlooking the revelers and their frenzied debauchery, and face tomorrow without a hangover! Great write.