It was good whilst it lasted
But it’s over – c’est la vie
Blame corona, blame the lockdown
Blame whoever just not me!
It was perfect, unexpected,
Served a purpose, struck a chord
But now being realistic:
I’m not going back onboard
No more playing standards on a cruise ship on the Rhine
No more gentle lounge jazz when its Captain’s Cocktail time
No more dodgy classics in the background of high tea
No more river cruises
No more dream job for me
No more dancing couples after asking for their song
No more tunes from “Les Mis” as the old girls sing along
No more learning new tunes that bring back a memory
No more playing oldies
No more dream job for me
No more Cuban stogies from that pipe shop in Koblenz
No more funny comments when the atmosphere was tense
No more chicken noodles: Cologne street food for my tea
No more Fred Ferkels
No more dream job for me
At least I still am healthy: getting covid would be bleak
At least I’ll see my boys now: no long breaks of thirty weeks
And now I’ve started busking on a website naturally
At least I am performing
That’s the dream job for me
By Iain Gilmour