“And as Nixon left the White House, you could hear people say, ‘They’ll never rehabilitate that mother – no way…'”

I have always been in love with the inexplicable wacky, wordy beauty of Robyn Hitchcock‘s musical creations. Overdosing on his whole discography these last weeks but tonight before bed it’s “1974”…

“The stench of rotting minds – but what else could you smell back then? You didn’t have to inhale too hard… you could smell the heads festering in the backyard…”

As the wind rages outside (again) and we near daylight (which I will sleep through), I will cling to the words, “Try to lead a middle aged life, well it’s either that or drop dead.”