It's Friday night, but should I play guitar
Or give my hands a rest? After last night
They've felt a bit strained, You know how hands are
When they're over-used. My digits like sprites
Fly over fretboard, sonic dynamite
Portraying thoughts in fractions of seconds
But maybe not tonight, no not tonight
Which means I'll just relax as bed beckons
Read more Clough biog, read how he descends
Deeper into alcohol, still deeper
In his green top, his face flushed red and bright
He'd battle on without Pete, his best friend
So now, as I wonder where's Louis, where?
I'll settle down for a night cheap and quiet
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