The days that used to be

An eighteen year old who would have thought, but we all get older eventually.
So off to the fake Cavern, it used to be next door not were they placed the tourist trap. Half an hour of bad music and guiness in a plastic glass. None for dad the antibiotics won’t allow and then off to a real pub the Swan Inn. Scene of many an evening, afternoon, and on Sunday’s breakfast of my youth.
Still the only pub with Hawkwind on the juke box regularly but Paul could not off hand remember the number for Ace of Spades.
Yes we could have stayed longer, yes we could have gone on but some moments are perfect in themselves, anyway we have to get up early to go to llandudno with the pensioners. Too much fun

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