[Mick PR photo]

Mick & Bono on Nov. 11, 1999 at the MTV Europe Awards

Mick during Midnight Rambler in Pittsburgh 3-12-99
Photo by Steven Elliott

"Ode On A Super Man"

Hey, Mister Super Man-
I see you flying high,
but your cape is fading fast,
I don’t care Super Man;
I’ll always be your maddest, baddest fan.
You swagger, you slither, you strut-
seep out sex like honey
dripping down a hollow tree.
Mister Super Man, you are always gonna be
the epitome of Super to me.


Hey, Mister Super Singer-
I see you up there on the stage. . .
All the women screamin’, dyin’, tryin’
to touch your hand. . .
They scatter like rose petals under your fancy feet.
The lines on your face can’t erase
the sweet, pungent odor of your cash,
the coarse, creamy flavor of your fame;
The schoolboy charm of your wicked grin,
though still the same, is growing thin.
Mister Super Singer, you ain’t ever let anybody in
to guess the nature of your game,
to be your only friend.

Photo of Mick at Wembley by Francis Jacques 6-11-99

Hey, Mister Super Star-
I see your lips-
wide, red, juicy cherries
rotting on the tree,
I get lost in the deep end of your blue, faded eyes-
Are you the lonely creature you seem to be?
I look past your age, your jetset triangles
that left you lying in disgrace-
I absolve all your sins and give you a fresh slate.
Mister Super Star, you gotta stop
runnin’ away; you gotta turn
and face yourself someday.


Hey, Mister Super Soul-
I only find you in my dreams.
I searched the distant realms of make-believe,
your sinewy shadow,
always turns up empty.
Why don’t you let me make it all come clean
like dew on the soft, green grass in a dusty moonlight beam?

A poem by Mrs. D.(Danette Shepard)


Photo by Jim Crowley


Mick & Sheryl Crow at Wembley 99-Photo by Jo Piscitelli


A Song by Danette Shepard, copyright Danette Shepard 1999

Do you remember when-
you wouldn’t let me piss in your bathroom?
And the economic classroom was my only way out?
Surprised at how that all turned out?

No, not me- no, not I-
I am the man, baby; I am SuperFly.
I know the die is cast, and
I am laughing last. . .

If you recall shady Edith Grove, Redlands
Mars Bar, carpet-covered lady,
Nellecote can’t be far behind-
I am the original, jaded baby. . .


Poor Brian, could not keep his band
or his lady from my hand-
in drunken tail spin he was in,
it was so easy for me to win-


[Got Mick?]

Hyde Park, Altamont,
Marsha and Marianne-
I did my best to side step all that shit-
I couldn’t let it drive me mad. . .


Bianca, Andy, Studio 54-
taking Ferry’s Jerry on the dirty bathroom floor-
Truman can hit the road-
Silver bullets won’t kill this “pissing toad".

Yeah, Angie, you got caught in a lie-
With enough money and lawyers
anything can come sparklin’ clean,
yet you claim you were surprised?


Keith’s got his stash,
Charlie’s got his jazz-
Ronnie’s over the past-
Taylor, who? Wyman what?
I got the cash and
honey, we are all laughin’ last-
but with some soul and some taste-
time cannot erase the spell we cast-
the shadow of the name
The Rolling Stones. . .
it’s all Muddy Waters-
jonesin’ for sticky honey in the bottle-
gonna suck the last drip drop
and still be empty and hollow-
gonna fuck everyone
till they scream and holler
for more-
and we still be laughin’ loud
when we’re walkin’out the door.

I’ve had some girls under
my thumb in every memory motel-
Ronstadt, Fawcett, Madonna-
Carly, baby, I knew her well.
Am I that vain or did you just lose your brain?
A thousand moonlight miles from Battambang
walkin’ back through Brazil-
I had ‘em once- and ain’t nobody’s ticket to ride.

And you can find me down on my Eden island
I got a mansion and a yacht,
and all my love is just castles in the sand. . .
It ain’t my style to stay longer than the wind-

Yeah, you stand around laughing
at my wicked games and sinful ways-
while I sit on top of this million-dollar hill
sardonic smile on my face-
time, wealth and taste hit a tie
dicing for my soul-
I am gonna be the last one to leave this place.
I am gonna have the last laugh right in your face.

Did I really marry you?
Make all your dreams of fame come true?
an honest girl, I love you, do I?

You lap up my latest fall from grace-
you interview the girls,
inspect the lines on my face. . .
I got no fear of livin’ in disgrace-
I had every belle at the ball-
I pissed on your gas station wall-
I never let a Mars Bar go to waste. . .
I hoarded up the green and I snorted
up the white-
Baby, I am used to having my own way-
I like to laugh about my dirty past
mainly, I like to laugh last.

The rumor mill and the gossip spill-
spreadin’ your evil lies-
I can wait on the hand of fate-
cause I fixed the deck-
I signed the check-
Mr. D. and I made a deal
I live fast in a higher place,
I get to be a man of wealth and taste. . .
Don’t you realize
I am laughing last-
right in your face,
Can’t you see the glimmer in my eyes?

I take wherever it is I please-
and warm my soul by the heat of all my gold,
I’m goin’ to all yer funerals
with a smile on my face
and a dry-eyed stare
I am gonna be the last one to leave this place.
I am gonna have the last laugh right in your face.
doo, doo, doo, doo-do doo- do-
doo, doo, doo-doo-do do, do do-
doo, doo, do
do-do- do, doo, do doo do-doo

Jerry Hall with baby Gabriel Jagger