Here Come the Old Drugs: A Prescription for 2024

Three Poems and 20 songs. Including a manifesto for compulsory rock’n’roll retirement

Here Come the Old Drugs: A Prescription for 2024

Listen to the whole thing, with all the music and me reading the verse, on Mixcloud here:

https://www.mixcloud.com/tom-morton2/a-prescription-for-2024-three-poems-and-20-songs/

Bruce Springsteen — State Trooper

Rolling Stones — Tumbling Dice

Can you spot the Candi Staton?

Disaster, tragedy, folly, distress

Joy, disappointment, failure, success

On hope, aspirin, Atorvastatin and fear

Somehow I’m stumbling towards a new year

A world heading for meltdown, ravaged by war

Is Taylor Swift really worth surviving for?

Will Felodipine, whisky and Atenolol

Control my blood pressure and cholesterol?

Taylor Swift — Is It Over Now?

Dreadful things happening from Gaza to Tiree

Where we’re headed now seems almost certain to me

To hell in a handcart, but trying to find peace

Listening to Nebraska, Hats, Veedon Fleece

The Blue Nile — Saturday Night

Van Morrison — Linden Arden Stole the Highlights

Exile on Main Street, Abbey Road, Blonde on Blonde

While hoping that God will somehow respond

To our desperate prayers for love, joy and peace

That Trump is arrested and never released

So I wish you a reasonable 2024

In the circumstances who can expect anything more?

Keep taking the tablets, keep taking the pills

And hope our free prescriptions keep on getting filled.

The Beatles — Come Together

Bob Dylan — Most Likely you’ll Go Your Way and I’ll Go Mine

Compulsory Rock Retirement: A Manifesto

All musicians over 65

The ones who’re still alive

Will face physical and mental tests

To ascertain who best

May continue to strut and strum

Until compulsory retirement comes

At 75, a ripe old age

To make their exit from the stage

Rod Stewart — Every Picture Tells a Story

Elton John — Philadelphia Freedom

All those with hair transplanted or bewigged

No matter how successful, small time or big

Who wear peculiar hats indoors and out

Will be informed that, where there is no doubt

They will be shaved, their scalp inspected

All disguise of baldness to be rejected

if they refuse removal, or to be shorn

Their licence to perform will be withdrawn

U2 — With or Without You

It is not age I seek to punish

It’s the desperate vanity that’s flourished

Where only not-so-greatest hits are played

And dreadful use of autotune is made

In truth it would be best to volunteer

Before the inevitable weight of years

Renders nostalgia the only saving grace

And the true glories of the past debased

Crosby Stills Nash and Young — Southern Man

It’s better to burn out than it is to rust

Neil Young says, as he turns to ash and dust

And let’s face it, for him that’s just the way things are

Please, stop him playing that black guitar

For Townsend, it’s not who’s next, it’s just who’s left

Daltrey’s deaf and the two just seem bereft

Springsteen looks as if he needs a crane

To lift him on the stage, he’s in such pain

The Who — My Generation (Live at Leeds)

Bruce Springsteen — Radio Nowhere

A mercy then, to bring to a conclusion

Before injuries, illness and confusion

Besmirch all the wonders of the past

The truth is, pop was never meant to last

It needs new blood, replacement energy

Bring on the young, whoever they may be

The old wild men can gracefully be gone

And leave their grandchildren to carry on

Runrig — A Dance Called America

Tide Lines — These Days

Your Own Private Scotland

Come to your own private Scotland today

The natives put on an amazing display

You can slum it on Easyjet, or hire your own plane

It’ll be like Brigadoon with more cocaine

Or the Wicker Man on LSD

Renew your Celtic soul

With no border controls

We could ride on that Harry Potter Train

Take a luxury ferry by Caledonian Macbrayne

They’re safe and reliable, never known to fail

No matter the weather they always sail

They have champagne and caviar

In the Claymore Bar

Boards of Canada — In a Beautiful Place Out in the Country

The only law is do what thou wilt

You can sacrifice a sheep or hire a kilt

No cops for miles you can feel so free

Bagpipes if you want but

They’re not compulsory

There’s digital TV

The internet, intermittent 4G

Big Country — One Great Thing

Richard Thompson — Don’t Sit On My Jimmy Shands

We could eat the local deer, lobster fresh from the sea

But there are vegan options, you can go gluten free

There’s a thing called a ceilidh, we’ll dance the night away

You won’t understand a word people say

And if you need a doctor

We’ll hire a helicopter

Edwyn Collins — Outside

Hunting lodges and castles on AirBnB

We’ll fly in a few chefs that have been on TV

Special diets for dogs – fell free to bring pets

We’ll have a mobile casino with high stakes roulette

You can gamble your whole life away

And you don’t have to stay

Forever and a day

In Your Own Private Scotland…

Willie Hunter and Violet Tulloch — Leaving Lerwick Harbour

Boygenius — The Parting Glass

Here’s the full playlist. Listen to the whole thing on Mixcloud here: