Such a black-eyed voice should never have come
from a blue-eyed man, and an Englishman at that.
He loved to sing, and how we loved to listen!
(We were too cool to scream and shout his name.)
Such a suit-suave style should never have come
from a fifties lad. Jeans were not his thing.
Pride in his appearance, in his craft
deserved the best, and Marvin was his man.
Such a whispered roar should never have come
from Batley, from the loins of Les and Ann
but it hushed and bellowed far beyond the Dales,
Bahamian-beached blonde white-boy lounging louche.
Such a Paris day should never have been darkened
by sudden death. A smothered song
lies buried in Lugano. We, in shock,
play album after album. (Music fades.)
First published in Reach
British rock singer Robert Palmer died in Paris on September 26, 2003