Frank Turner - I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous
It's always been a fucking great song to me.
I'd got chatting to some young chap in the smoking area of our local sticky-floored drinking and dancing establishment, and at some point we'd established that we were both Frank Turner fans - total rarity in Sunderland's so-called alternative scene.
And for no reason I can remember (may have been the vodka) we sang the above song in its entirety, at the tops of our voices. he'd started, I hadn't even mentioned it was my favourite song.

You can see where that evening went.

Fast forward about four weeks later, can you guess why our erstwhile heroine was crying in a shopping centre toilet cubicle, with a hand covered in piss?
For the next seven weeks, until I sorted a hot date with a speculum and a vacuum, that song was off-limits. Even the opening line could make me punch walls and start to cry.

I saw Frank Turner live two days after said procedure. he played this song. I cried shamelessly in the middle of the crowd; not with anger, fear and sadness, but with pure relief.
and I threw my arms up so hard at the beginning of the song that I accidentally punched the bloke behind me in the face. Oops.
(and now for someone completely different, Thu 28 Jan 2010, 18:46, 1 reply)

woah

(Fancy a weekend on my Raymondo Luxury Yacht?, Thu 28 Jan 2010, 18:56, closed)