there’s a lifetime’s worth of memories there, oftentimes too many to remember with any clarity. they all blend together, the days in the road and the nights in the studio. you on your piano, me on my drums, tapping a beat as you cross out something on the music sheet. you on stage in your element, me watching you from the best seat in the house. it’s like flicking through photographs found in a tin box hidden away, faded and worn with time, and everything in black and white because you took the colours away when you died

Roger Taylor