Twas the night before a Dead show and all through the place, All the heads were dosed - just trippin to space. The joints were all rolled with precision and care, with hopes that St. Stephen soon would be there. The freaks were nestled all stoned in their beds, While visions of Johanna danced in their heads. With me in my poncho and him holdin my hand, just dyin to hear Uncle Johns Band. When out from the stage there arose such a clatter, I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter. O way to the stadium I flew with my stash, I kicked down the gate - it fell with a crash. the light from the orb, hanging so high. Blinded me like I was born cross-eyed. What to my red glossy eyes should appear, a shadowed figure, could it be Mr. Weir? No, too big to be Bob, too short to be Phil, Could it be Mickey, Vince, or maybe even Bill? He started to sing and the sound from his lips, Assured me at once that he was Captain Trips! His eyes how they twinkled, his dimples how merry, I exclaimed in excitement, Oh Wow! Its Jerry. I couldnt believe it - just Jerry and Me, Play something I said. Play Sugaree. The Fat man jammed - he was on a roll, With his sweet songs, he rocked my soul. Jerry spoke once, and his message was plain: Gotta go now, he said. It looks Like Rain. But I heard him exclaim as he walked out of sight, Good Lovin to all, and I bid You Goodnight!
Posted on: Sat, 27 Dec 2014 11:05:57 +0000
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