Off his face on cocaine
Nobody knew how the hell they were going to save Wayne
He’d done it all, partied with the best, fondled far more than his fair share of celebrity breasts
It just seemed there was no-one left to impress
He sang like a songbird but time had taken its toll
And now when he sang he sounded nothing but absurd
He fell about the stage, forgetting even the simplest words
Bottle of whiskey in hand, an embarrassed band in the background who had started to play it bland
He’d taken them to the top but now they may as well have packed their bags
Begin all over again working in their local shops
It was almost over, on the brink of reaching its conclusion if he didn’t stay sober
He had been way up there
But now, slumped in a backstage chair, he spoke through a smoke-ridden voice of utter despair
His friend took him to one side, slid his hand inside
Took out some coke, informed him he had become “a national joke…
“Continue to toke and it’s all over, I can’t recall the last time I saw you sober”
Wayne apologised in kind, promised him he would do his best to rewind their time
Go again
“Grab me a pen and we’ll calm this all too choppy tide”