Bus Call

Once upon a midnight dreary,
Wandered, Neil Diamond, tired and weary
Through the streets of his venue’s city,
stumbling through his hotel door.
Tripping over fans with cameras,
Glaring flashes as the shutters,
Caught him, he began to mutter
Words to make a sailor shudder,
As he tried to enter the door.
“Where’s the damn elevator?” he queried
As the fans let out a roar.
But security said, “No more!”
“Neil we love you!”, a fanboy bellowed,
Neil blew a kiss to the lucky fellow
Warming to the crowd he mellowed;
While still looking for the elevator door.
Sulking now, a fangirl mumbled,
“Neil didn’t pick me for the ‘kiss,'” she grumbled
Making poor old Neil feel humbled
While still searching for the elevator door.
Smoking his cigar, bone-weary and sore
He posed for photos while the crowd begged for more.
“Gimme shelter!” cried Neil in despair,
As another fan asked for a lock of hair
“Where’s my privacy?” he blared
But he heard wafting in the night air
“Nevermore, nevermore.”

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