When I sing along and get the words wrong
I remember a friend from ages ago.
AC for those of you in the know.
 
Once, he mis-sung-along and quipped,
quick and confident as you like,
“Jim got it wrong!” (We had The Doors on.)
 
But he wasn’t always so light and slick.
His slightly pained laugh could chase away jokes,
he played fucking angry guitar, and
 
one night he took so much LSD
he cried because he’d lost his bottom!
After that though he’d go quiet, often, and
 
no one knew until the tracks had taken him.
So, when I sing along and get the words wrong,
he still exists. Perhaps. I kind of believe that.