He wanted to get his laundry done
Ran out of shirts and things like that.
Wanted to sleep in a bed that night
The reason that he took the flight.
The real reason that Buddy died
Is most discussed in touring vans
By tired musicians on the run:
He wanted to get his laundry done.
You don't wanna wake up grubby, cold
Crick-in-your-neck on a fuggy bus
Missing the missus/daughter/son
No. What you need is your laundry done.
And they never tell you in the mags
What any working heart-throb knows;
The ratio of gigs to pants,
It sort of kills the whole romance.
So half-way through the average tour,
The interviews, the jokes, the drink,
They're very nice and all of that
But what you crave is a laundromat.
The brilliant songs and banging set
Hide dirty, pissed-off, homesick boys.
An extra date on the "final" leg
For the goose that laid the golden egg.
And in the end you'll hijack time
Take a plane on a dicey night
With bucket loo and a plywood seat
Just to escape the whiff of feet.
And so the reason Buddy died.
Among those theories going on
Musicians often point to one:
He wanted to get his laundry done.Reuse content