Station to Station

Well, we are off to Brighton tomorrow to play the first gig of our trio of dates starting off at the Prince Albert just near Brighton Station.
I am already beginning to get nervous as usual but then whole reunion thing that was meant to be for 2005 only is now in it’s third year and I’m feeling settled with the potential of the band. Also, now that we have decided to call it a day after these dates I don’t have to worry about when it should end.
It has been very enjoyable and when it is like that it’s hard to say “enough is enough".
I’m going to spend the first part of this evening putting new strings on my guitars and playing them in whilst cooing to them about how much I love them and hope that my efforts spur them on to play some blistering rock ‘n’ roll on Friday night.
Unfortunately we won’t have time to savour the delights of Brighton the following day as then we are then off to the bright lights and wet streets of old London Town where we will be playing the Spitz club, which is bizarrely right next door to Liverpool Street station.
I hadn’t made that connection until this moment, how about that? We should do an entire tour of venues right next to stations and then we could travel on the train to all of them.

Anyway, if you’re going to be there tomorrow, I’ll see you there.

If not, I’ll see you here, and you can read all about it.

1965

Murder was no longer on my mind when I decided it would be an idea to play to take my mind off of the events of the day. However, now it changed to rescuing people at the last minute, putting out fires and rushing people to hospital where they came out a little later having completely recovered.

I was trying to win favour with the Gods, Lorraine my oldest sister told me there was only one true god. I was uncomfortable with this because I needed another to turn to if I fell out of favour with the first, I’ve always been unconformable with monopolies. As the years rolled by I became relieved when I learned that the Asian Indians had found almost a full set and a load started popping up all over South America and then eventually, all over. That seem very sensible, because if you were here from another country and you couldn’t speak much English it would be good to be able to pray to one that knew what you were going on about. If you are asking a very powerful deity to do something for people and it mis-understood, anything could happen, that’s why I thought so many earthquakes and floods were happening. They were just misunderstandings, so the more gods the better.

Finally, the thrill of saving people didn’t last as long as the thrill of killing them, perhaps God often feels the same, I don’t know. So I decide to mooch on downstairs for a while, I descended with a series of thuds as the burden I was carrying was betrayed by the heaviness of my feet.. At the bottom of the stairs I turned right into the ‘middle room’ as it was known. This little narrow utility area had a door at its entrance and another at the other end that opened inwards to reveal the kitchen. These doors were very rarely shut which then gave free passage to the warmest room in the house. A door at the other end of the kitchen lead out to the garden and if you stood with your back to it, you were looking straight through the middle room and straight at the front door with it’s three rectangular mottled panes of glass.
As I turned the corner and headed for the kitchen three loud staccato cracks like a Walther PPK pistol being fired straight at my back, one shot to the head to disable motor functions, one into the back of my neck which instantly shattered my voice box so I couldn’t cry out and one to the heart to cease blood circulation, it was a classic neutralisation . I stumbled and as I did so I looked at my mum, she was looking over my head, she said, “I wonder who that is?”

I turned slowly round and there fuzzily silhouetted through the three panes was the ominous shadow of two large men, motionless and waiting.

Blood drained out of my face but fortunately stayed within my body.