I Know Where Robyn Hitchcock Lives

Late one night, by chance, I spied, a stranger, yet, familiar guy?
T'was distant down an alley way half shadow cast, all black and gray
Night was thick with humming wires
Street lamps swayed to paint the spires
Bedroom windows dimmed like ember in December's frown
Pre-legendary then, my phantom friend
Still lurking round the bin
In street light dim, my phantom friend
Amidst the poetry of night
A staggering form, no fancy flight
Did wander, thus, did intersect, distracting me as I reflect
Like an exclamation out of place
He steered his form to match my pace
I turned, too late, he's at my side, though drunk
Doth syncopate my stride
Dare not glance peripheral
To not see what's visible?
Beyond what I could perpetrate
Increase my pace, I deviate.
Racing running my lair swelling in my sight and
Up the stair way turning on my bedroom light
Footsteps echo, down the dusty corridors of night
Down the hallways, closing all the curtains and
I block the doorways, still I hear him coming
Breathing, stumbling, slow across the floors
But as I opened up my door, and search the dusty corridors
An phantom standing not quite clad
Save railroad boots and cowboy hat
With flannel shirt and blue jean vest
Just looming there, all Roger-esque
Phantom friend