Sunday, 20 February 2011

Andrew Treneere Harvey

What is that gurt thumping noise?
It's his boots a-stomping
I met him down in St Austell
When we were more young

He taught me my first Irish songs
And usually did the singing
I was learning mandolin
Did more my own songs

Clad in black and don't look back
Playing on the banjo
Nor money nor honey does he lack
Andrew Treneere Harvey

I joined in his busking troupe
The Thieving Gypsy Bastards
With Peet Coombes God rest his soul
I hope he hears this song

Not seen Andy in so long
Wonder what he's doing
Liam says he taught him songs
And also called him Bard

He took the piss out of me
For my drama study
Andy would never enrol
Saying you don't need it

I learnt lots there but think that too
It's called autodydactic
Teaching yourself
Is a way of keeping hold of your brain

He'll get a heaving rhythm going
Banging with his feet-o
His lyrics picked for mind blowing
If your ears can hear

As well as the street busking
There was skipping too
On Old Truro Road
We had our abode


Could you call him inventive?
Would he accept creative?
Writing backwards fluidly
Is really quite a skill

Once I dreamed a dream
Of his milliput figurines
There is much more I could say
But I'll leave him a mystery


...Andrew doesnt know that I wrote this yet, I hope he doesnt mind.

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