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Posted by on Sep 14, 2009 in Entertainment, Writing | 6 comments

Tour Ballad Blues

Blow the dust of the record and put the needle down slow, plunge plunge in pulsating vein. Take your razor and cut my line, put your nose against the speaker and breathe in, breathe in. This is our cutthroat high (baby boy).

Records are the glamorous lovers of sweat in a crowded room.

The scenery of my life is yellow lines, concrete, cigarette butts, exhaust fumes and rest stops who drive hard for their bucks. Load out, sound check, play show, load in, let’s go, hey next city. And all the while the make-up won’t stop running and I keep on promising call backs. Brush your hair in the truckstop mirror (baby girl)


  1. Woah! Stomping strong entrance Anna!

    Vivid word pictures painted in my mind. Can almost taste the diesel fumes and road dust, almost hear the muted sounds of the band on stage while the roadies drink behind the tour bus.

    Great first post! Knew you would make it worth the wait 🙂

    Thank you & welcome to BlaBla

    • Thanks.

      The life of a journalist, walking the trenches of the SA music scene sounds more glamorous on paper. I promise.

  2. Welcome Anna!

    • Thanks!

  3. Having loaded and unlaoded many a speaker and amp, you brought back memories for me. Well done and welcome!

    • Thanks for the warm welcome!


  1. My Word! Word Clouds By Wordle « The BlaBla Blog - [...] be repeated in the text that you enter. So, using the words from Anna Coke’s great poem-post, Tour Ballad…

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