Misplaced Devotion
Follow the players all over the globe
Clutching your portable flute
Tracing their steps with the patience of Job
In garments of weapons-grade jute
Missing a concert were near-mortal sin
Failing to listen were worse
But when all's said and done, it's so hard to get in
(and getting out can be a curse).
So follow the players all year, if you must
Press them with autograph books
Yield to your demons, your musical lust
For intros and bridges and hooks
Will keep the band going for eighty-eight years
And seventeen number one hits
Through splits, reformations, through laughter and tears
And oceans of ill-informed crits
If but one fan remembers, their works shall endure
Each quaver a moment to cherish
But if no-one still listens, then you may be sure
The legacy's certain to perish
Contributors: | TG, Roland. |
Poem finished: | 27th November 2003 by TG. |