T H A T S U N D A Y.... That Sunday has been and gone now. Though there was no sun on this day. Only rain, for a whole week, only rain. I believe it was the tears of angels, tears of regret. They had made a terrible mistake that Sunday A mistake we can never forget. I hope there was no pain, no fright. Only chaos and noise… And then beautiful light. Gently taken by the hand, taken to heaven, instead of brass band. For on That Sunday, you became an angel my friend, We found ourselves lost… Lost till the end. Keep em entertained up there mate. Teach angels to moonwalk, play loud piano till late… Break as many things as you want, but not the pearly gates… For we will need to walk through them one day, to be reunited with you. Stephen, my best mate. So slide away Skooba my little bro, slide away… There’s no more we can do, no more we can say. Apart from we miss and love you dearly… Your smile. Your touch. Your love. We find comfort knowing you’re safe, watching us from above. You da man Skoobs. Goodnight and God bless Till we meet again, and we will meet again, this is not a goodbye. Only a farewell for now my friend…