And we named our cat after him
By Noo
- 883 reads
Hand made boots
And a dark, dark heart
General knowledge genius
And hoarder
Funny fucker
Collector of esoterica
Lonely man.
At Download
He was way past his salad days
Gaunt, frail
The cowboy hat
Too big
For his skull
I don't wanna live forever sounded
Like truth,
Like certainty.
This morning
Lemmy the Cat
Cried into her breakfast.
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Comments
a lovely tribute
a lovely tribute
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couldn't sing, I guess that
couldn't sing, I guess that wasn't his thing. cowboy hat - fuck that.
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He was a fruit machine head
He was a fruit machine head just like me. I met him in the basement of the Embassy club in Mayfair circa 1984. I didn't know who he was and while there were plenty of gorgeous females about, all I wanted to do was play the machine. I didn't have any money so I had to watch him. He had a way of putting the fifty pence pieces into the gullet that I'd never seen before, one ater the other from his hand fresh out of the bank bags, and I was transfixed by how he did it. In those days, if someone wanted to watch you play a fruit machine, there was no problem, and we had a wee laugh as he lost his load. A truly beautiful person who took everything on the chin
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Lemmy the cat in mourning,
Lemmy the cat in mourning, she is classier but he was so likeable.
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