| Blow your brains out, blow your cigar,
Blow all your juices, blow your regard,
Blow out the candle with a soft squeeze box
Or with a soft breeze
Or blow it to hell with Hurricane Ike--
Doesn't matter, it'll be out!
Jeff Beck's been on my mind lately,
Can't say why, he just stays there
On the fringes of my consciousness--
Anyway, he once made a fretless guitar
Out of boxes and stuff, when he was a kid, I mean...
The frets were painted on, I read.
I've seen him listed as one of the top one hundred
Or even one of the top four guitarists, but I don't know,
Myself not being even one of the top 10 million guitarists. |
Glad to see you safely on-blog again with not too much damage done (been away myself so late checking you out).
ReplyDeleteJeff Beck? I know nothing. I only know that one of his tracks was on my first ever computer (in the UK) as a sample audio clip, I'd never heard of him then, and still know nothing. :-)
Nice quirky poem though!