Friend of a Friend

I've spent quite a bit of time feeling a little green about the gills this past week. So rather than feel sorry for myself, I've instead re-tuned my guitars and have gotten back to playing (very, very badly) once again. It's been rather enjoyable and frustrating all at the same time. But that's the bane of poets and madmen. Or so I'll keep telling myself at least.

My Ibenz 12 string is a real beauty and if you're hitting the string right it just about sings. I've always been a real sucker for a real acoustic set, they always sound so much more genuine and honest somehow.

"Friend of a Friend" by the Foo Fighters is simply beautiful. It's pretty much his first impressions of his band mates at Nirvana, Kurt and Krist. I guess nobody ever really interrupted anyone, I suppose words are often of no real value at times.

For me this has a bit of a different spin. My guitars (barring one) don't really belong to me, they are still technically my brothers. These days when I play there's nobody around to hear (which is mostly a good thing). Of late I've pretty much locked myself away to play...

He needs a quiet room
With a lock to keep him in
It's just a quiet room
And he's there

He plays an old guitar
With a coin found by the phone
It was his friends guitar
That he played

He's never been in love
But he knows just what love is
He said nevermind
And no-one speaks

He thinks he drinks too much
Cos when he tells his too best friends
'I think I drink too much'
No-one speaks
No-one speaks
No-one speaks

He plays an old guitar
With a coin found by the phone
It was his friends guitar
That he played

When he plays
No-one speaks
No-one speaks
When he plays
No-one speaks

So I'll just keep playing away on my old guitar, behind locked doors where no-one speaks.