You were a troubled soul, unable to connect with the world around you. Haunted by your demons, you stomped across the Europe Board, the crazy, tatooed biker bloke, the rebel without a cause. Your anger was tangible, but your vulnerability humanised you. You touched so many of us, who wanted to help you, but just as you could not accept the cold world that surrounded you, you lost the ability to accept the help that was there too.
RIP Peter Williams, and farewell, I hope you are driving your dream black Porche along Route 66 off into the sunset, and as you reach the end of the highway, you will find the peace that alluded you for so long. Goodbye old friend, you are in our prayers.