Lonely beach at night...

Late night last
lone cab i rode
to the hard rock cafe;
forty bucks
six pack cheap beer
downtrodden spirit
was all in play.

As the gates bursts open
did the stories unfold;
guitars strung blue
worn jackets sparkle gold.

In awe did i wander
glass cases and peer;
a downtrodden poet
a half drunken seer.

Long did i ponder
their life`s gentle soul;
til anguished abated
and ale`s thirst grew too bold.

To pub`s altar
i ventured
there begged for a brew;
the tender he smiled
for me
he thought
he knew.

There sat and played
won more often lost;
reached up then stretched
my hair tumbled tossed.

To the curb
did i amble
to await there my ride;
one question it lingers
on my brain`s pensive side.

The guitars photo`s jackets
with me did they sit;
but in those tight little jeans
How did Elton ever fit?









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