Stones Don't Float

O Oracular Jones, Swimming Mightily Through the Tempests and the Tides

Brian Jones has left the pool

Brian Jones, get out of the pool.
Oh my God, he still has a pulse.
I can hear that faint beat from his foolish heart
Brian Jones, you stunned drunk junkie, sober up.
Everything is possible.
it's all imagination, isn't it?
Brian Jones, you are totally bumming everyone out.

Brian Jones, you are slipping up on the Diddley rhythm
You're playing too serious and slow, it's only rock and roll.
Get up and shake it, or you're going to kill a thousand dances
Clap like you would to old St. Vitus's Boogie Blues
We need your mouth harp; breathe out, breathe in
It's not only you, generic Jones;
You're not in the army, but you're in a band.

Okay, goodbye then, Brian. But don't expect any true sorrow,
You penny ante panto Adonais
This train's moving on to Almonte and beyond
Even if you up and rise again
We don't want to know
I hope Hit Parader doesn't cover it.
This is live, Mr. Jones. This is happening.
There will be no overdubs,

And no retakes.

--Stephen Roney