Mina
I’ve written music. I just haven’t thrown it up.
I’m actually advertising myself, but at the same time just playing music on the streets, and just playing just like, you know, Ed Sheeran, bit of Elton John, bit of John Lennon.
They’re sentimental to me, because they mean, they mean feelings to me, you know, like;
“I’ve been knocking, But no one answers.”
I was born in Rotorua but bred in Christchurch. I used to be a street kid. I used to be homeless on the street in Christchurch.
But I mean, like my son rung me, and he goes, Dad, you got a granddaughter! I was asleep. I threw all my blankets, all my pillows, in the bin. I’m gonna get me a house so I can have my granddaughter with me. Yeah, but she hasn’t come over, though. My granddaughter’s in Rotorua, I’ve seen her in Rotorua and she didn’t say much, she’s quiet, shy. She doesn’t say much.
My son, he’s a scaffolder in Auckland, right? He’s a master scaffolder my son. And he loves working. He loves it, right? He just loves the mahi, and he loves the money. And, you know, he helps me out when he can.
All my family hail from up there; my mom died, February 2nd. So me and my sister and my family, we went up to Rotorua. She was on her dying bed. All my family were around, and they were like, ‘Mina play; play a song.’ I didn’t really want to because I wasn’t in the mood, but I played a song anyway.
And then, um, she just said her last breath and died.
“Loving can hurt, Loving can hurt sometimes, But it’s the only thing that I know…”
Music to me, it kind of touches the soul, it touches peoples’ hearts. Music does that to people, and that’s what I like. I always listen to music every day. I have my stereo pumping all night, all morning, and then I just go into town and have a jam.