Saturday, 23 July 2011

To Amy

A little music festive taking place in the pretty Clissold Park.

Left my grands and just wanted to be out a bit. Doing my special stage to Hammersmith then to Hornsey left me pretty fatigued, can't imagine what the Schleck brothers must be feeling.

The sky is just the most amazing beauty shade of pink tonight and feels somehow mystical and emotive?

Its you for sure, as a liccle BBQ smokes in the distance I can feel you smiling at us all.

They tried to make me go to rehab and I said no no no.

I died a hundred times, as Dermot played that out I just filled up but sitting with my gran at her kitchen table I couldn't just flood up and be all indulgent. Under this delicious vanilla sky, its somehow fine now.

My good friend Bianca and I used to go out every weekend and paint Upper Street a deeper shade of red and her rendition of Rehab really made me well as I text her your news.

Never the highest fan of your sound, Jazzy horns aren't really my gig but I appreciate your music and the Daily Mail divide you split in people.

To see my gran so shocked made my eyes go wide at what huge news today was.

The Jazz funkster is drawing to a close now as I blow away my camel into the cool air and the crowd applaud - he said "I guess all good things come to an end"

Did he see my tears as the crowd cheers? He felt it either way and for you in the sky its been a wayward day.

Up there now,
Shining so bright,
I hope in the heavens,
You live just as fast life.


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