So there’s Larry, Des and me. We’ve come from a great time in France with my old uni colleague, Peter Verreck who is staying at a little farmhouse in the Dordogne. While there, every bank we went into was the Banque Nationale De Paris, so naturally when we wired money ahead to Barcelona (none of us had traveller cheques) we wired it to that bank. It took us three days to locate the bank, which wasn’t a branch, only some tiny clearing office with no ability to process transactions. So then we had to contact our Australian bank and have the money wired to Bank di Bilbao or some such, in Barcelona. We were down to our last bit of money, sleeping three to a room in a pensione run by gummy old women. Finally the money came, which was a relief because if it hadn’t the only way out would have been to start a romantic liaison with one of the gummy ones. The melody for the first verse came to me while we were doing just what is described. I then had to keep the melody in my head for months until my keyboard arrived from Aus and I could write it.


Well I’m cruising at night on a ferry
Down Barcelona bay
Though I’ve got my problems they seem
Like a mile away
My car broke down in Toeldo and my money hasn’t come
I’m dirty and hot I don’t know what I got
But I still got some, still got some.

I was riding my bike in Holland
When the chain broke and I fell in
To a bummer one summer with a girl
She was trying to lead me into sin
Well I don’t know if she succeeded
But I’m quite sure that I failed
For the things that she taught me they quite overwrought me
And I ended up in jail, up in jail.

Now I’m drunk as a skunk in London
On a train called the London tube
I’m all alone and I’m chilled to the bone
And my rent’s overdue
Maybe the story will end right
Maybe it won’t end at all
Maybe I’m stuck in a bad run of luck and I’m
Stuck here till next fall, till next fall.

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