Crash Kills Boy Rockstar: The Dark Lonely Street of Eddie Cochran

Oh Eddie Cochran.
What were you thinking that night?
As the taxi began to spin out of control
and your girlfriend screamed.
Were you thinking about Buddy?
Did you know that this was the end?
I know that you did.
After Buddy, Ritchie, and The Bopper were all killed
you said that you should've been on that plane too
and that you were next.
After all
it was you, Eddie
that had talked Holly into doing that tour.
He sat in his New York apartment
with his pregnant wife
on the phone with you, reluctant to go
but when you said, "Oh come on, Holly. I'd go if you asked me."
He couldn't say no.
Then at the last minute
your agent pulled you off the tour
to do The Ed Sullivan Show
and your life was spared.
When you heard about the crash
you knew that you should've been on that plane too
you were living on borrowed time
and you knew it.
You spent your last nights
drinking whiskey until you blacked out
pounding on the chest of a hotel manager
shouting, screaming, wailing,
"My God, I'm gonna die and no one can stop it!"
That night they had to call a doctor to the hotel in Manchester
to sedate you.
And it was the strangest thing
when you awoke the next day
you were different.
Your fear was gone
there was a calmness about you, Eddie.
You told your road manager to go out
and buy every Buddy Holly record he could find.
Which was odd
because after his death
you couldn't bear to hear his music
a song of Buddy's would come on the radio
and you would quickly turn the station.
But now
you told your girlfriend
that 'It's gonna be okay. I'm gonna see Buddy again, soon.'
You knew.
Before the taxi hit that concrete lamp post
when it started to spin
you covered your girlfriend
with your own body.
Then thrown out the car door
your head scraped the roof of the car
which had been busted open
the metal sliced into your head
sliced across your skull and into your brain.
Then you skidded two hundred feet on the back of your skull.
Were you scared Eddie?
Could you see Buddy, Ritchie, and The Bopper
putting out a cigarette
under the yellow street-light
waiting to take you to the other side?
Leaving behind
the screaming girls
tailored suits
unmatched guitar solos
smoking reefer in the desert
shooting your guns
the scent of American virgins
and enjoying a good smoke after a meal.
An elderly couple found you in the street
blood coming out of your
ears, nose, and mouth
deep lacerations across your skull
your blonde hair stained red with blood.
The taxi had been used for a wedding earlier that day
confetti had covered the inside of the white Ford Consul
and now it was all over the road
some still blowing around in the air
scattered along the street
were your clothes, your guitar, Buddy Holly records,
and autographed 8x10's of your face
that were signed,
Don't Forget Me,
Eddie Cochran.