These lines have a certain poetic ring to them, a.
I propose a mash-up of yours and f's memories be his elegy. An ode to Sod, if you will.The man was a mystery. He gave clues to his approximate location.
The man was a mystery. He gave clues to his approximate location.
He lived within ear shot of the steel drum players outside angel station.
He was invited to the 5-a-side even to watch but declined.
I suspect he was watching but sat at a bench in a trenchcoat reading a paper.
He was familiar with the street poet on Camden Passage, and used to spy on you in Sainsburys.
I once saw a bloke nicking tomato ketchup sachets from The Coronet.
I suspected it was him.
That's fvcking beautiful, man!