‘It starts when you think it’s the end’: Timothy B. and the Eagles

He’s in a bar and out of it

Eyes nowhere near home

Turned out the music wasn’t quite enough

When it came right down to it

Without a little something

To help everything along

To keep on night after night

Became so much harder

Without some kind of hit

How they picked him up

Swept him off his feet

Let him finally feel

Everything would be all right

No use pretending to be coy

When he can’t conceal his joy

So he just opened his arms way out wide

‘Sometimes you just gotta let it ride’

An eternal waif

In dungarees

Hair so long and free

A giveaway t-shirt

And tight blue jeans

Natural right down

To his split ends

And hopefully expectant smile

They gathered him in like

The harvest of their lives

Sometimes he looks down at

His guitar with such sweet

Self-satisfaction that it

Simply warms your heart

His submission disarms them

Like a rainbow in a storm

He’d been so disenchanted

When this shot came his way

It’s like a dance he’s always known

He’d get the chance to dance one day

It was a trip like no other

Furious, frenzied and far too fast

For anyone to believe it could ever last

It was so much of all he ever wanted

That it almost made him sick

Fated to crumble into bits

Just as he was getting used to it

He hits the ground hard

Lies still as a stone

They hit the ground running

Before he knows it they’re gone

For poems and imaginary scenarios on Timothy and Eagles, see https://bashfulbadgersblog.wordpress.com/2013/09/11/bad-timing-with-the-eagles/ and https://bashfulbadgersblog.wordpress.com/2013/07/31/timothy-b-schmit-and-the-eagles/.  For a blog on Poco and Timothy B., see http://sshh-sshh.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/some-called-it-country-some-called-it.html.