the man who had been king
5 Songs Tim Burgess Thought Carl Wrote For Him.
Is there anyone more rubbish then Carl? Oh yes there is. Timmy!
01. "Whatcha goin'a do, Timmy?" warbled Carl, so wasted he couldn't get up off the floor to check the telly to see if The Libertines' newest album was being reviewed well by the British press. It wasn't. "You're a sweet, sweet. . ." he rolled over and stared at Timmy's legs. "Sweet. . .sweet. . ."
"Sweet?" prompted Timmy.
"Sweet sweet Timmy!" Carl passed out. Timmy sighed, caressing Carl's side of the self-titled album. Carl was such a romantic. How unfortunate that he hadn't recorded Timmy's name on the album version of the song.
02. "To the man who would be king!" toasted Carl. "The man who would be king!" echoed the rest of the room. Timmy blushed as Carl cried with obvious delight, "la-la-la-la-laaaa HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
There was talking in the background as Tim cut his birthday cake. "Is he the man they wrote that song about?"
"Guess so."
03. "You fucking love it," said Timmy right before going down on Carl. An LA breeze wafted over them and Carl coughed. In the background, the Beatles proclaimed, "She loves you, yeah yeah yeah!"
04. It wasn't Pete singing and it wasn't Carl singing but Timmy was positive it was a Libertines song. Who could mistake the ripping guitar chords and furious youthful energy? Perhaps it was John singing; Timmy didn't care but he knew the song was about him. How like Carl- to surprise him with a song Timmy had never heard him play and turn it into a single.
"I bet that you look good on the dancefloor!" John roared over the radio.
05. "You wanna die," crooned Carl softly, bent over a guitar in the corner of Timmy's bedroom, hair in his face all poetic-life, "go on, commit suicide! You wanna live don't you? Well I do toooooo."
Timmy threw himself off the bed and into Carl's arms.
"I love you," he said, face buried in Carl's shoulder, guitar squished between them like a wooden, hollow baby. "I love you so much."
Carl chuckled. "I love you too, mate."
Is there anyone more rubbish then Carl? Oh yes there is. Timmy!
01. "Whatcha goin'a do, Timmy?" warbled Carl, so wasted he couldn't get up off the floor to check the telly to see if The Libertines' newest album was being reviewed well by the British press. It wasn't. "You're a sweet, sweet. . ." he rolled over and stared at Timmy's legs. "Sweet. . .sweet. . ."
"Sweet?" prompted Timmy.
"Sweet sweet Timmy!" Carl passed out. Timmy sighed, caressing Carl's side of the self-titled album. Carl was such a romantic. How unfortunate that he hadn't recorded Timmy's name on the album version of the song.
02. "To the man who would be king!" toasted Carl. "The man who would be king!" echoed the rest of the room. Timmy blushed as Carl cried with obvious delight, "la-la-la-la-laaaa HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
There was talking in the background as Tim cut his birthday cake. "Is he the man they wrote that song about?"
"Guess so."
03. "You fucking love it," said Timmy right before going down on Carl. An LA breeze wafted over them and Carl coughed. In the background, the Beatles proclaimed, "She loves you, yeah yeah yeah!"
04. It wasn't Pete singing and it wasn't Carl singing but Timmy was positive it was a Libertines song. Who could mistake the ripping guitar chords and furious youthful energy? Perhaps it was John singing; Timmy didn't care but he knew the song was about him. How like Carl- to surprise him with a song Timmy had never heard him play and turn it into a single.
"I bet that you look good on the dancefloor!" John roared over the radio.
05. "You wanna die," crooned Carl softly, bent over a guitar in the corner of Timmy's bedroom, hair in his face all poetic-life, "go on, commit suicide! You wanna live don't you? Well I do toooooo."
Timmy threw himself off the bed and into Carl's arms.
"I love you," he said, face buried in Carl's shoulder, guitar squished between them like a wooden, hollow baby. "I love you so much."
Carl chuckled. "I love you too, mate."