Saturday, 8 February 2014

A young man's death.

I went out last night (oh that was so good!) and it’s taking me a little while to recover (perhaps just a little bit too good) – so it seemed appropriate to Blog this lovely poem  by Roger McGough;


Let Me Die a Young man's Death



Let me die a young man's death

not a clean and in-between

the sheets holy water death

not a famous-last-words

peaceful out of breath death


When I'm 73

and in constant good tumour

may I be mown down at dawn

by a bright red sports car

on my way home

from an all-night party


Or when I'm 91

with silver hair

and sitting in a barber's chair

may rival gangsters

with hamfisted tommyguns burst in

and give me a short back and insides


Or when I'm 104

and banned from the Cavern

may my mistress

catching me in bed with her daughter

and fearing for her son

cut me up into little pieces

and throw away every piece but one


Let me die a youngman's death

not a free from sin tiptoe in

candle wax and waning death

not a curtains drawn by angels borne

'what a nice way to go' death


Roger McGough


Neil Harris

(a don’t stop till you drop production)


Last night, spent with 'Groove Manoova' (who could resist that?) will go up tomorrow.

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