Purple Reign: Day Three – Limerick
Purple is a colour that for a long time has been associated with that alien musician who walks amongst us, whose musical works are released sporadically and are designed to make us challenge our preconceived notions of music, fashion and indeed, his own prior music.
I am not talking about David Bowie. No, I speak of his Transatlantic compatriot, Prince Rogers Nelson. (With a name like that I imagine he was named after the country royalty that is Kenny Rogers and Willie Nelson. It might be the case.) For as long as I, or he, can remember, Prince has been linked with the colour purple. Mostly because of this.
At the intersection of fresh-cut flowers and leather-clad motorcycles, you will find PRINCE.
“At the intersection of fresh-cut flowers and leather-clad motorcycles, you will find PRINCE.”
He’s also known for this place:
But Paisley Park, (and paisley) is not purple. No, this Park is a giant temple to the Purple-Clad Prince himself.
The once was a singer named Prince
Who called purple his favourite of tints
He eschewed Scientology
And preferred Musicology
Lilac, and a deep mauve rinse
I think I forgot that this was supposed to be about purple drink, and it became about a purple….guy. Whoops.
Thoughts In The Key Of N 