well thats basically that
the tour is over except for SXSW
which isn’t really a gig at all
i am sitting here on the bus in baton rouge
on one side is a fancy hotel
and on the other is a forest or something
the weather is warm and overcast
the weather implies many things to me
warm southern romantic weather or violent weather
around me in this place i pick up on activity
somewhere something is definitely happening
but where i am is warm quiet and uneventful
i am the dim receiver
impressions of other lives wash over me
things that don’t concern me and never will
it is a typical place at the end of a tour
the empty parking lot
the garbage at the edges of the woods
i drink down some spare tincture left on the bus
i wander to a mall and i get a massage from a chinese girl
i enter some other blissful universe that i never want to end
i meet wonderful people in my dreams and wander the skies
when i snap out of it i realise ian has had a massage there too
and he was also transported elsewhere by the experience
yeah the tour is almost over except for these austin dates
one minute its all before ya
next minute its all in the past
all that noise and heat and sweat and light
all those people
all those mornings with all those coffees
at the end i astonished myself with the energy i could muster
i guess thats thanks to yoga and swimming
i am able to channel some source of mojo
which kicks my ass along all night as i play n sing for 2 hours
its getting darker outside now in baton rouge
and i think off so many other tours
so many other people and many of them now are gone
the times are gone
many of the places are gone
i am still out there treading the boards
but every thing else is changed
rocknroll rocknroll rocknroll
the weird ghosts and the memories
all these times all these tours all these events
but nothing waits out there for me tonight
that is a comfort and a shame
i am out of the game
although very much still a player of song
going from town to town
down the blackened tourbus corridor like a submarine
as we shoot through the greenish snow in the wee wee small hours
as we pick up and lose friends
as we cover great spaces asleep in the jarring blankness of the bunk
the shows are predictably a blur
new york atlanta wherever you like
i bestrode the stage and i gave it my all
so there is nothing more to say about those shows
they speak for themselves no doubt
or not at all
its 707 in Baton Rouge
we leave this car park in 8 hours
i love you all
i guess some yoga must be next