Scarily obsessive mumbo-jumbo bollocks

In 1974 roses were selling at 30p per stem and the grass was yellow in the end of summer. And the grass was beautiful for smoking it alone.


It was on the cold August Monday morning, this first arrival in the studio. The lanky unshaven guy got off the blue bus behind a porch on Abbey Rd with two guitars under his arms. There were two other guys dragging a huge box filled by multicoloured wires. The unshaven guy loudly yawned and stretched. Eventually he has put his guitars near a porch and went back to the blue bus. After a while the hirsute nerd has run out from the studio and took this sleepy unshaven guy from the bus with him inside the studio.


The same thing went on three or four days on end. Unshaven guy (whose name was Syd or possibly Roger), left studio from time to time, smoked nearby, sat on rungs and then went back home. In the studio Syd behaved silently, long thumbed through his many shabby scrappy notebooks, wiped strings of his guitars with rag and bet the drums for hours.


Once, it seems it was on the second day, Syd has brought some Persian pillows with him and spread out them on a floor. All of them were multicoloured and very cheerful. Syd told to everybody that if to arrange them in a definite order the surprising melody would be produce which he couldn’t remember anyway. But that day he couldn’t arrange them in the correct order; the melody hasn’t been recorded.


Peter (this is that nerd which so much fussed around Syd) attentively listened to that he told and tried to record practically everything that he did.


Last day when Syd left to smoke outside, the thick guy who has learnt him on the street has approached him and spoke a long about somewhat, then convinced him to descend somewhere. After that Syd has returned to studio, removed strings from one of his guitars, put them in his pocket, left outside and never got back any more.