As the evening begins to settle, the fresh night air is ornamented with the sounds of various upbeat Irish songs coming from various traditional bars. The streets are splashed with American and European tourists all having a good time. A Garda car pulls up beside a street busker who is playing Chuck Berry and wearing a hat to keep his head warm.
‘Can I see your license please?’ they say to him,
‘I left it at home Garda’ the busker is apologetic,
‘It’s passed eleven; you can’t be playing music passed eleven’.
The busker hangs his head a little and proceeds to dismantle his mic stands as the Garda car drives smoothly on down the road. As it approaches the corner up ahead, the busker notices that his shoe lace is untied and craftily bends down to tie it as he looks at the car turning the corner in the domain of his peripheral vision. The car is gone and up he stands with his shoe now tied and assembles his mic stand again.
‘Any requests?!’ he shouts to his street audience and they applaud him. He swings off into Ray Charles Hit The Road Jack and the vibes are pulsating again.
After sometime he gets tired and packs up his kit. Walking down the road to the bus stop he sees business men in suits with nice lady’s on their arms, out spending all of their and keeping the economy going. To his left is a homeless man with one eye, wrapped up nicely in his sleeping bag with a dirty old coffee cup with some loose change in it. The busker reaches into his pocket for some change that he made and fills the homeless man’s cup up about a quarter of the way. He made enough money tonight to do that.
On his walk he meets the Liffey and it seems to swell as it reflects the street lamps glow which hue the city with its orangeness. The taxi men don’t know how to drive and they beep at him as he hastily crosses the street. Young crowds in tracksuits stand on street corners outside grocery shops as they wait for some excitement to come and grace them.
This city he thought, from the high end Grafton Street Bustle and the Trinity Students, to the hearty homeless on the street and everything in between, I think I’ll write a song about the city when I go home. Yeah, That’s what I’ll do.