Part 53 of 60 - Busted


It’s late at night and I’m on Piccadilly, and not many folk are around.
I lay down and rest my head, on my bag that’s on the ground.

Two lads step out of a black cab, look drunk like most this late.
I thought that it’s worth asking, “Spare any change please, mate?”

“We’ve got no money”, one lad said “But come join us for a drink.”
Their vibe seemed sound, and so I said “Okay, I will I think.”

As we walked down towards Hyde Park, I’d took with me my bag.
They said that they’re band was gonna be famous, I thought it was a blag.

Just drunken talk, was my first thought, because people do talk shit.
But when I got to their hotel, it seemed to click a bit.

Their guitars were in the room, in the Intercontinental,
At least I know they’re speaking truth, and not just simply mental.

We had a jam and drank some beer, and I slept on the bed,
Of one band member who was not there, but somewhere else instead.

In the morning they said to me, “Well you’ve tuned a guitar up before,
Here’s our number, give us a call, and come and join us on a tour.”

You’ll be our roadie, we’ll make sure you’re sorted, for now we have to go skoot.”
So I left the hotel, feeling all good and well, and they went for their video shoot.

A few days later I went to call, to speak with them again,
The piece of paper had gone soggy, because of the wet rain.

I tried to guess the numbers, was it a five or an eight or a three?
But didn’t get through to a number at all, perhaps it’s just not meant to be.

I’d almost forgotten about James and Matt, until one day I then see,
Two years later when visiting dad’s, in the room watching TV.

I laughed and I pointed right at the screen, as they then played out their show.
I said “I’ve met those lads, when I was down London, and they’re proper sound lads ya know.”

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