Wrapped around his finger
There was a band a while back that, for a brief time, I'm not ashamed to say I was obsessed with. English singer, who also played bass. First saw them when I was in New York. In a short time, I owned all the records, and could sing all of the songs almost exactly as the lead-singer sung them. I knew when to pause, when to hold back a line, I even knew when every breath he took between lines was.

Well, time passed and I became even more of a fan. I started turning up to all their shows; I became some kind of crazy zealot fan. Every night they stayed, and played a gig, I'd be watching them. They were a pretty hard working band, so it was pretty much every single day. The live show started to get a bit repetitive towards the end though. I'd know every word he'd say, and every move he'd make on-stage.

The band started to have trouble, and it was pretty obvious that soon they'd be releasing their last album. I thought that the singer could do with my support. Eventually, I decided to write to this singer and tell him my feelings. I told him how, no matter where he played in the future, I'd be watching him.

Fucker took my letter and turned it into a song. I hate Sting.
(bob the floating widget, Fri 17 Apr 2009, 11:24, 1 reply)

I'm proud to say I clocked this from the second line.
Nice one!
(Helixdaunting, Sat 18 Apr 2009, 6:33, closed)