Touched down at Heathrow about half-past eight.
White collar man wouldn't let me through the gate.
Next thing I know two cats are searching me.
Like I was a voodoo threat to national security.
Took a ride to some hip producer's home.
Making sure to avoid the congestion charge zone.
I asked the guy, would he like to hear me play?
He said no point, it's all done on computers these days.
Within a week I started getting press attention.
Even Heat magazine gave me a small mention.
Said I was stepping out with some chick from a soap.
But they didn't give our long term prospects too much hope.
Got a gig tonight in Camden Town
With a band thrown together by some A&R clown.
Sharing the stage with a bunch of washed-up junkies.
And I'm second on the bill to the Arctic Monkeys.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Hendrix in London
[What if Jimi Hendrix arrived in England in April 2006 rather than September 1966? Written to the tune of Purple Haze]
Labels:
arctic monkeys,
camden,
heat,
jimi hendrix,
london,
poem,
poems,
poetry
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