Sunday was lonely...
So the bike and I
Took a freedom ride...
To Chewton...
A folk festival there...

(Chewton is some blurry place near Castlemaine...
A place God started to build some 150 years ago...
And never got around to finishing...)

I was walking...or rather wandering...
And this bloke came up to me...
And we started talking...
He was the most ordinary looking bloke you would ever meet...
But somewhere...down deep...was a songwriter...
A guitarist...
A musician...

I told him I like guitars...

So he invited me to where he was camping...
And produced a couple of guitars...
And we played music...
And this was about 11 in the morning...

And the music played on...
And on...
All these people came round...
And it played till 11 in the dark of night...
The bestest of days...
This guy was fantastic...

His name is John A...
So stuffed in the mind though...
He is bi-polar...
This is the first sacred Sunday he has had in 40 years...
Says he spent the last 12 months
Trying to build the courage
To blast his brains away...
With a shotgun...

But Sunday gave him a new reason to think
It might be a bad idea...