It was always John for me. Always. I thought the man in the white pants and black socks (!) above was a dork before I even knew what a dork was. The round lipped "oooooooo" way of singing, the constant look of surprise. I knew my chain was being yanked by a master. John was just John. Pissed or pissed off, stumbling or dancing, brilliant or tampon on the head. Always just John.
The way that I am just me and you are just you and we are just all together.
Off to bed, I am. Alarm clock to buzz and be smacked all too soon. I have lands to scape and tools to loose.