Bobby to Gene
Had a spine tapping inclination to play something that would flow like butter melting on the homely roasting harmony of solitude Relaxation raved inside rocked in the hammock of satisfaction to a soul-jazz seducer Bobby Caldwell 'What you won't do for love ' in A major merging my energy into synergy with the entity and where I had languished in the lounge of memories today i found tranquillity immersed in the melody I'd been so warm and complacent at the fireplace of yesteryears until the smoke of a haze of decades had cleared Ashes seared within wrinkles elapsed like roman road maps and winds trapped in shutters of skin flaps hoarding the pains tribulations and fears buried under eyelids in the perspex of tears and a grey beard But the transience of time harmonises storylines and from the late 70s among Bobby's rhymes " my friends wonder what is wrong with me" coasted I soulfully synchronised Anaesthetised and instinctively realised th