Two years from D-day

Awake. Fuzzy head, dehydrated, aches n' pains. Topping up on pink grapefruit squash.
In the Heat of the Night on the box.

"They call me Mister Tibbs!"

Last saw this nigh on eons ago. First night out playing after the demise of the band. Back turned climbing out of my overcoat, BOOM, CRASH, splinters. Two part bass, no playing tonight. Home to the sofa, comfort of home, comfort of love. Crazy cracked chaos to sensible sort it solution.

Delores, white trash trouble on the telly. The night I named my musical wardrobe...



It's two in the morning. To cuddle till there's breath no more. How do I explain? Oh to a future, yet the past so real.
Tickity tock.