Jack Vettriano And So to Bed

Jack Vettriano And So to BedJack Vettriano an Imperfect pastJack Vettriano An Imperfect Past II
skinny one's wearing a flared robe,' said Noddy.
'He must be old.'
'And they've all got guitars! Do you reckon they've come to see us?'
'Bound to have,' what Music With Rocks In is about!'
Asphalt, Cliff and Glod sat in one corner of the dressing room. The roar of the crowd could be heard from here.
'Why's he not saying anything?' Asphalt whispered.
'Dunno,' said Glod.
Buddy was staring at nothing, with the guitar cradled in his arms. Occasionally he'd slap the casing, very gently, in time with whatever thoughts were sluicing through his head.
'He goes like that sometimes,' said Cliff. 'Just sits and looks at the air–’
'Hey, they're shouting something out there,' said Glod. 'Listen.'
The roar had a rhythm to it.said Noddy.'That's a bodacious audience,' said Jimbo.'Yeah, that's right, bodacious,' said Scum. 'Er. What's bodacious mean?''Means . . . means it bodes,' said Jimbo.'Right. It looks like it's boding all right.'Crash thrust aside his doubts.'Let's get out there,' he said, 'and really show them