Is there a romantic male worth his salt who does not get all wistful when hearing the first verse of “Sweet Baby James”?
One day, I’m going to see the stars in a wide open sky, unfiltered by suburban lights. I’m going to play guitar by campfire on a nippy autumn night, thinking about women and glasses of beer.
I know, I know. The idealised version is never as good as the real thing. In real life, our romantic notions are messier, smellier, harder. But,thinking and dreaming about them is part of the stuff of life, no?
So, I’ll let the vision in my head sing me to sleep. Goodnight, all you moonlight ladies.