If you live long enough to become an old rocker like me, you start to see a different view from a hotel window than you used to.
Gone are the mountains of beer bottles, and not a single needle in sight. Only a half empty pizza box on the table. And, instead of a bleary eyed groupie in my bed, a picture of a woman and a child next to it.
Neil knocks at the door, grey, grizzled, and leather clad, saying it’s time for soundcheck.
How does the song go? Time may change me, but I can’t trace time…
Image by Bikurgurl