In Praise of Rod
The boy done good. An ersatz god
His spider-cut grown out from mod
So skinny, ratsy kids like me
Could cash in with a new ID.
His beery proto Celtic Soul
Made something in the heart shout GOAL!
And everything about his band
Was cheerful, raucous. Never bland.
The workplace anthems of the age
Were footballs booted from his stage
And there among the building sites
You'd notice all his acolytes
In haircut, look and cocky way
On scaffolds, bawling `Maggie May'
And so, for these enlightened men
The passing girls walked slower then.
And later on, (much later, Ron)
With KGB men looking on
Their slavic features set in frown
The Iron Curtain long come down
Rod storms their former citadel
At 50-plus he wears it well
Quite good as vintage rock stars go
(I had that haircut once, you know ...)Reuse content