Chapter (33) MY BROTHER NICK

MY BROTHER NICK

 

When we were young we played guitars, my brothers, Gary, Nick and me,

Up in our room we'd twang away 'till it was time for tea.

Our sister said we sounded like, a cat put out at night.

This often made us angry, sometimes we'd even fight.

 

Our dad, well he was more concise, he'd threaten us with pain,

So we would check that he was out, before we played again.

 

The years passed and I played less, Gary left, but Nick stayed strong,

He'd gone electric by age thirteen, and written his first song.

He's winning contests on the coast and singing like a lark.

By age fifteen he's now progressed to concerts in the park.

 

From group to group he played his way across the music scene

From town to town and gig to gig he lived his music dream.

He built himself a studio, wrote songs for young and old

Made thousands for his charities, but never found his gold.

 

Although he's now much older, with house and kids and wife

I think it’s fair to say, Nick’s music's been his life.

Now when I sit and listen to the discs, he made along the way.

I’ll be proud to call him brother, until my dying day.