Well the co-op wasn’t busy,When a Yamaha or whatever
Pulled up and a grey-haired
Seems there was a partyOf film types swarming Star’s
Doing pick-ups and a reshoot
For some “Highlander” joint.
Peterson’s had a big lobsterOrder come in, and there was
Noticeable energy in the air
Over the way down
No proclamation mayoral,Nor danced town square,
For the Bondman, the
Man Who Would Be King.
Just a “How’reyou” & a wink,Then the motorbike riced
Its way back towards the
Holy Pike blacktop two-lane.
Perhaps someone reveredSean with legend tales of
Daring-do tourist square war,
Shotgun wads fired galore!
Only one knows, but othersMaintain yet that on still
Autumn mornings Star’s
Mountain yields bagpipe melody.
Tur rah lur ra lurie,Tur rah lur rah lou.