On Hearing of the Death of Robert Young

Loaded was one of the first things I pianoed.
Something about it sympathised.
Later than everyone else, I screamadelicised.
Tried to convert my metal mates over rizla king size.

I remember the time when someone said:
‘Hey, this sounds good even when you’re not off your head’
It felt like a personal victory, of my taste at least.
Moving on Up indeed.

We both jumped from bass into guitar,
You had Les, I got a jaguar.
You, however, made the better fist
I cried at your slide when I was pissed.

And now, that’s it. Nothing left to do
But spin Swastika Eyes
And pray thank you.

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