I caught the bus into town the other day, taking the old route by my home and thought about Michael Hutchence. Once I saw him ride his motor cycle with a beautiful girl on the back around the round-about by castle rd entrance, and onto Robinson rd. I must have been 15, in an horrible orange shirt from the Island School uniform, and I decided one day I was going to be as beautiful as that girl so I can be with someone like him.
He was so much one of our own.
He was so much one of our own.