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MIDNIGHT IN MAYFAIR
That night in claridges there was magic in the air
the queen mother, the queen mother, the queen mother was there,
a band reflected mahogany and brass
in the glittering walls that were faced in glass.
Nostalgia was served with the unctuous strains
of cole porter, berlin, for the starters and mains.
Nothing had changed in the waltz of kings
and none of the tunes were my fa...
Wednesday 11th May 2016 11:59 am
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