![]() ![]() I went out again the next day, then got my own set of clubs, and never looked back. A soldier of fortune came home from war And wondered what he was fighting for This sad-eyed soldier, he broke down and cried Oh oh, he was so broke up inside When will it end When will it end The bell tolls For those about to die The battles over the war is won But this soldier of fortune he will carry on He will carry on when all hope is gone He will carry on Hes trained to kill and kill he. “When I finally tried to kick heroin, the guy staying with me to guard me could see how bored and irritable I was getting, so he said, ‘As a kid, did you have any hobbies?’ I said, ‘Well, I used to go to a driving range and smash golf balls.’ … he said, ‘OK, let’s go do that.’ I remember concentrating so hard on hitting this stupid little white ball, and for a couple of hours it made me forget all the shit I was going through. “Golf saved my ass,” Gorham explained of his mid-’80s experience. Years later, the rocker was saved by something entirely different. I went to court, but my lawyer uncle had a meeting with the judge in his chambers, paid him $4,000 and I walked out a free man.” I was in jail for three days and they were threatening me with two to five years in the state penitentiary. “But it turned out that the guy was a fucking cop. ![]() "One Labor Day weekend I went to New Mexico with my friends and when we ran out of money for gas to get home someone said, ‘Let’s just chop off a little piece of this hash we’ve got and sell it.’ A guy came over and said, ‘Hey man, do you have anything?’ and I said, ‘As a matter of fact I do…’ One of the lessons he’d learned from his early days was, “Don’t sell drugs to cops.” “This seems obvious, right?," the guitarist noted, before detailing his own experience. ![]()
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