After travelling the world, Will the explorer returned to the UK hoping to make a name for himself but found himself homeless. He drifted for a while and for some reason in Formby, then rested in Manchester, where he eked out a living with his guitar in his hand and his cap on the floor. This song was written but never performed at that time.
Before he saw his homeland Will had seen around the world, seen a million different wonders and made love to many girls. He’d seen the riches of New York and then the street kids of Brazil, statues purchased for his corner and his travelled windowsill. Yet nothing could transport him like the girl in Manchester, whose body was the rhythm to pen this melody for her.
Before he saw his homeland Will had played the pubs for beer, in London, Paris, Berlin, Rome he gave Madrid the steer. He heard the cheers in Copenhagen drank the booze in Amsterdam, busking tunes in Eastern Europe strumming airs on Melbourne trams. But nothing could inspire him like the streets of Manchester, whose veins contained the lifeblood for this song he penned for her.
I would like to help a homeless writer