'Too Many Poets'

Key to authors' pseudonyms

Was bothering no one,
Not a care in the world,
Just minding my own business;
Life was so plain and simple,
Just a bowl filled with cherries
Floating on the Mersey ferries.

So then how did I get so bloody lucky?
Why did you have to come along?
Only to blacken my Christmas
And ruin my song?
I'm in quicksand, I'm sinking!
What the Hell was I thinking?

This cannot be happening!
You flew in on a 4-speed broom,
Now I'm trapped in a room full of gloom!
It's midnight, I'm doomed!
I'm choking to death
Can't catch my breath!

Surely you jest;
You're far from the best....
Nothing is real,
Especially you!
Per chance just a dream?
Or so it would seem.

Are we having fun now?
Not really... 

Procol Harum concerts in 2001: index page

Manchester: Palers' Convention

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