'The way is up
Along the road
The air is growing thin
Too many friends who tried
Were blown off this mountain with the wind

Meet on the ledge
We're gonna meet on the ledge
When my time is up I'm gonna see all my friends
Meet on the ledge
We're gonna meet on the ledge
If you really mean it, it all comes round again''

 

Dear Fairport Convention.

 

Given that, by your own admission. an unacceptable amount of your companions have been parapet dismounted, I am rather surprised, to say nothing of also rather agitated, that you would so inconsiderately jeopardise my mortality by proposing such a precipitous rendezvous peak for our conclave, the agenda of which I am at a loss to determine, especially considering that we have not been formally introduced.

Furthermore I am confused, when taking into account that so many of your associates have been gust-displaced, that you are somehow able to become re-acquainted with them post-plummet and can only assume that thankfully some soft landing / hoist and pulley system or trampolining apparatus is involved. The former, circular, mechanism is most likely vis a vis your plaintive croon that it all comes round again 

All points considered, may I as a compromise suggest Harry Ramsden''s Restaurant on Bournemouth seafrontn as a venue for our confusing assemblage? The sand particles on the beach on which the restaurant is situated are picked up by breezes, and oxygen is sometimes in short supply owing to temperamental air-conditioning in deference to your ''folk/rock tearjerker''

I await your agreement and confirmation of a mutually convenient date and time

 

Yours sincerely

 

 

Derek Philpott

 

 

 

Reply from Dave Swarbrick received 14/9/2014

 

Just speaking for myself you understand, I would prefer a kindly bordello to fish and chips any day.

 

Best wishes Swarb

 

 

 

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