I loved her David. I think of her and can play Fairytale of New York on Violin. Shane MacGowns lyrics on that song are genius. The two of them in that fabulous video is a true classic. Im missing them both. Thank you for sharing your beautiful story.Reading it touched my heart. So thank you.
I first heard her on, Does Stephanie Know, by Squire from my Mod days. I loved The Kinks as well and somehow got a sleeveless copy of Days. Kirsty did a great version and you just drifted along on her melodic voice.
"Weeks after Kirsty's death, I receive a card which she must have posted the second she arrived in Mexico. It reads:
You know it's you
xxx Cursed xxx
It is an unusually overcast Sweetzer afternoon as I plough logs on to the open fire and crack open a bottle of vodka, and cradle Kirsty's card in my hands like a prayerbook, wondering if she would still be alive if I had talked her out of traveling to Cancun. The vodka induces bewailing and I cry myself blind for yet another lost friend."
I loved her David. I think of her and can play Fairytale of New York on Violin. Shane MacGowns lyrics on that song are genius. The two of them in that fabulous video is a true classic. Im missing them both. Thank you for sharing your beautiful story.Reading it touched my heart. So thank you.
She was an original. Smart and sharp. Her loss was immeasurable
I first heard her on, Does Stephanie Know, by Squire from my Mod days. I loved The Kinks as well and somehow got a sleeveless copy of Days. Kirsty did a great version and you just drifted along on her melodic voice.
I'll listen to more now on your recommendation.
🙏🏻
A lovely tribute, David, to a wonderful person.
Kirsty and Morrissey were close friends.
This is an extract from his autobiography.
"Weeks after Kirsty's death, I receive a card which she must have posted the second she arrived in Mexico. It reads:
You know it's you
xxx Cursed xxx
It is an unusually overcast Sweetzer afternoon as I plough logs on to the open fire and crack open a bottle of vodka, and cradle Kirsty's card in my hands like a prayerbook, wondering if she would still be alive if I had talked her out of traveling to Cancun. The vodka induces bewailing and I cry myself blind for yet another lost friend."