Taut pigskin

As a sorrow needs a joy
a group from early struggles  
are formed not gold but just some base alloy
 
The steady beat of hands and feet
they cast a sound  
the counterpoint, as Mic Jagger pranced around
 
Held the anchor
built the framework
the sound of calm when there was rancor
 
Great drummers have a signature to leave
its echo in the tightness
the blur of arms and sticks, only memory retrieves
 
Percussions always centre stage
and with his laconic look, we could all engage
the background cogs, head that nods
 
No one to drive. shout ONE TWO THREE
for Charlie Watts, just one last cheer.
He has left the building, RIP
 
 Still enjoy the lyrics, with a touch of sadness.
  replay the tunes that so endears,
 the encore for a great career