There was a long gap between “Rosie” and the next Fairport Convention “event”, as far as I could tell, and those months were a sort of waiting period. The loss of Girlfriend 24 weighed heavily on my teenage mind, and then came “A” levels.
This from the doggerel of the first month or so:
“Exam Vacuum Tragedy”
Outside, the children’s tireless tongues
Give voice to healthy little lungs
And scream in minor infant strife,
Untroubled by the woes of life.
Both little girls and little boys
Are much the same, and cry for toys;
And looking from my puberty
I envy them their liberty.
And every girl that I have known
Has changed me in a way her own,
And left on me her special sign:
“Once I was here and he was mine.”
Their war paint and their battle dress
Will not mean much amid success
But by the time that I’ve got bread,
I know, I fear, that you’ll be wed.
Healthy and rich I’ll have mansions and halls,
No. 6 vouchers to paper the walls,
But there on the walls of the room with a view
Will be giant close-up pictures of you.