Lockjaw in Liverpool

The stage is set,
The houselights dim,
I cranked my amp to ten,
Another club, another gig,
The same old songs, again,
The subtle strains of 'got the blues,
Mingled with the crowd,
I hit the string bends right on cue,
G. Moore would have been proud,
But as a gripped the microphone,
A rockstar, theres no doubt,
A frayed and fragile earth lead,
Decided to short out,
This sent a voltage through the line,
That lay beneath my feet,
And up the mike stand, through the mike,
Then, fillings in my teeth,
As you can guess this is no fun,
And apart from that,
It felt like I'd been clouted,
By a massive baseball bat,
The audience applauded,
They just didnt seem to know,
They thought the pyrotechnics,
Where all part of the show,
The moral of this story,
If you have the urge to sing,
Get a guy who knows his stuff,
To check your wiring.

Olias