By John Dowie, 2001

I like the notion that he took it
Everywhere he went
Muswell Hill to Morecambe Bay
Cardigan to Kent
Pub to club to coffee bar
Garden flat to garret
Everywhere Viv Stanshall went
So did his parrot

I picture him in Portland Place
Drunk on beer or claret
Cigarette stuck in his face -
Yet another habit
I picture a surreal race
Of which he ran the gamut
And everywhere Viv Stanshall went
So did his parrot

A friend of mine woke up at nine
Viv Stanshall on the phone
Lonely drunk and desperate
Unable to get home
"Don't worry, Viv. Get over here.
Viv. Listen to me will you?
Well, get a cab.  I'll pay. What?
Well... Bring the parrot with you."

And now I see a staircase made
Of light and air and gold
I watch the gates of paradise
Happily unfold
I hear the sound of seraphim
(not unlike Syd Barrett)
As friendly faces welcome in
Bespectacled with bearded chin
Bearing a euphonium
A ukulele and a drum
A paint brush and a palette
Mr. Vivian Stanshall and
Mr. Stanshall's parrot!

John Dowie 2001

VICE & VERSA