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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Banyoles With borrowed funds And broken hearts We hitched a ride with the country’s realm, Running, stupefied with pungent balm. Through London swarms and Navy shops We lavished on ponchos And swagger. We met an astronaut that day, On a bus to Barcelona. We set up camp in a heavenly place, And bathed in golden waters. We revelled in gallons of cheap red wine Told tales of woe to jesters. Firecrackers were in the air And bursting at our feet. Packs of running chaos, too. What were we supposed to do? As the tents came down we took our leave And sped to Perpignan. Poor, we scuttled for food and ate from cans And busked a ty ditty. ‘Je dorm’, he said from stolen bed, overnight, non-stop to gay Paris. The spaceman had given us advice And today we would pursue it. Some they scorned and looked away Some bet us we’d not do it. A bottle of rum secured it though, Us Champagne Stowaways! And at the bar we heroes revelled, Auras bright above. The night was full of sculptured fear, Of fluid dreams, of love. But at the edge appeared and shone, A hundred songs of long. We scampered fast across the city And took the mad man’s lift. At Bristol ships we parted, With money for a beer. We’d courted with the devil, With vagabonds and cheats We’d grown in awe and stature And landed at his feet.
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