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)

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Contact: neilwithpromisestokeep@gmail.com

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