The flag of piracy flew from my mast, my sails were set wing to wing
I had a jukebox graduate for a first mate, she couldn’t sail but she sure could sing
I pushed B-52 and bombed them with the blues with my gear set stubborn on standing
I broke all the rules, strafed my old high school, never once gave thought to landing
I hid in the clouded wrath of the crowd, but when they said, “Come down,” I threw up
Ooh… Growin’ up
Lyrics by Bruce Springsteen
At festive and New Year time it is customary to visit relations with the odd neighbour thrown in for good measure. In our family from one day to the next you can find yourself antipodean/Question of Sportian either home or away. It’s never bothered me one way or another as we’re all one big happy family. Playing host or guest doesn’t matter as the venue may change, the friendliness stays the same. Continue reading “Growin’ Up”
Boadicea's Chariot 