You say you want to try again
Why you wanna break my heart again?
Why am i gonna let you try?
Every once in a while The Other Miss Pickering and I need to get the hell out of Dodgeville, on a school night.
To worship at the altar of Mr John C. Mayer
To Wembley, to feel the guitar reverberate through your chest cavity, albeit a chest cavity in a floral blouson.
If you haven't seen Mr Mayer live, you haven't lived. There are no giant lemons, no hydraulic stages, no backing dancers, just him, his guitars and his band.
Spotify him, You Tube him, turn the volume to high and lie with your head between the speakers. You won't regret it.
Tomorrow there will be jam jars, and floral headpieces, but tonight, for one night only, your little miss twee, was just a little bit rock n roll.
Posted by Miss Pickering at 1:28 AM