The Runway: A Fictional Narrative

It’s funny the thoughts that spin through my mind
As I’m rolling along with the train
My future seems split into two different scenes,
And I wonder which way it will end.
Seems to me that the chance to be has been taken away
And the New York plane won’t be coming again To carry me
The guys in the band can’t give me a hand
As they’re so far away
The man with the visa won’t budge, he’s a drudge
It’s been a long long day
I got knocked down in Martinique,
The consul thinks I’m out on the street
The flight back to London was full of apprehension,
For me
When I finally made it down to the ground
They were giving me the runaround,
Saying, long haired musicians are the kind we don’t want here.
Richard’s the man with the cash in his hand,
And a chance