Everything to Prove to the World Something: Selected Verse and Lyrics 5

 

There Was Once a Long-Vanished England

                                                                   

There was once a long vanished England;

Of well-spoken presenters

Of the BBC Home Service,

Light Service, and Children’s Favourites,

Of coppers and tanners, and ten bob notes;

And jolly shopkeepers, and window cleaners.

 

I remember my cherished Wolf Cub pack,

How I loved those Wednesday evenings,

The games, the pomp and seriousness of the camps,

The different coloured scarves, sweaters and hair

During the mass meetings,

The solemnity of my enrolment,

 

Being helped up a tree by an older boy,

Baloo, or Kim, or someone,

To win my Athletics badge,

Winning my first star, my two year badge,

And my swimming badge

With its frog symbol, the kindness of the older boys.

 

Toilers of the Sea

 

Come away with me

To toil upon the sea,

Come away and see

How sweet sea life can be,

I'll sing Bonnie Dundee

Off the coast of

Old Guernsey, you and me

As toilers of the sea, as toilers of the sea.

                                                                   

Help me put that wrecked

Romance away from me,

Help me understand

How it was lost at sea,

It wasn't destined to be,

She belonged to another not me,

What’ll be will be,

For toilers of the sea, for toilers of the sea.

                                                                   

I can stand it if you're

There with me,

For the solitary life at sea

Is enough to make you

Sea crazy,

With the whales

And gulls for company,

For toilers of the sea, for toilers of the sea.

                                                                   

We can ponder on

The ocean's mysteries,

I'll unveil a few of

My old sea stories,

You'll see how kind a tar can be,

I promise you'll be safe with me,

When we're out at sea

As toilers of the sea, as toilers of the sea.

 

To See You at Every Time of Day

 

To see you in the morning,

Be with you in the evening,

To see you here

At every time of day,

Such a simple prayer,

To see you at every time of day.

                                                                   

To hold you when you're laughing,

Console you when you're crying,

Take care of you

At every time of day,

Such a simple prayer

To see you at every time of day.

                                                                   

So tell me why you push me away,

When I've sworn to be

Forever true,

When I've pledged

My pure and simple heart to you?

How can you be so cruel?

                                                                    

To see you in the morning,

Be with you in the evening,

To see you here

At every time of day,

Such a simple prayer,

To see you at every time of day.

 

Under Blue Berkshire Skies

 

Stevie, we were free,

Stevie, you and me,

On that golden day,

Was it '68?

The decade's last few days,

The whole wild world was crazed,

But where we were was peace,

For you and me at least.

                                                                    

If I stop for a moment,

I dream groves and country paths,

Green's Albatross is playing

In this our past,

Whole empires were falling,

The old ways were fading fast,

Things never last,

But you and I found peace at last.

 

We weren't friends for long,

Things began so strong,

We were far from home,

Together less alone,

We drifted far apart,

We grew up oh so fast,

We had so far to fall,

Four years took their toll.

                                                                   

We walked and talked

For many hours,

Safe under blue Berkshire skies.

 

The Wanderer of Golders Green

 

I awake each morning

With fresh hope

And tranquility;

I might go for a saunter

Down quiet London backstreets...

Soon my aimlessness

Depresses me,

And I realise

I'd been deceiving myself

As to my ability

To relax as others do.

 

I decided on a Special B

Before the eve.

I bought a lager

At the bar

And chatted to Gaye.

Then Ray

Bought me another.

I appreciated the fact

That he remembered

The time he,

His gal Chris,

And Cary downed

An entire bottle

Of Jack Daniels

In a Paris-bound train.

                                                                    

A tanned cat

Bought me a (large) half,

Then another half.

My fatal eyes

Are my downfall.

I drank yet another half...

 

My head was spinning

When it hit the pillow;

I awoke

With a terrible headache

Around one o'clock.

I prayed it would depart.

 

I slowly got dressed.

I was as chatty as ever

Before the exam...

French/English translation.

Periodically I put my face

In my hands or groaned

Or sighed -

My stomach

was burning me inside.

                                                                    

I finished my paper

In 1 hour and a half.

As I walked out

I caught various eyes

Amanda's, Jade's (quizzical) etc.

I went to bed;

Slept 'till five;

Read O'Neill until 7ish...

Got dressed,

And strolled down

To Golders Green,

In order to relive

A few memories.

I sang to myself -

A few memories

Flashed into my mind,

But not as many

as I'd have liked -

It wasn't the same.

It wasn't the same.

                                                                    

Singing songs brought

Voluptuous tears.

I snuck into McDonald's

Where I felt at home,

Anonymous, alone.

I bought a few things,

Toothpaste and pick,

Chocolate, yoghurts,

Sweets, cigarettes

And fruit juice.

 

Took a sentimental journey

Back to Powis Gardens,

Richness

And intensity,

Romantic

And attractive,

Sad, suspicious and strange.

I sat up until 3am,

Reading O'Neill,

Or writing (inept) poetry.

Awoke at 10,

But didn't leave

My room till 12,

Lost my way

To Swiss Cottage,

Lost my happiness.

Oh so conscious

Of my failure,

And after a fashion,

Enjoying this knowledge.

 

West London in the Sun

 

West London in the sun

Last summer of the millennium,

We were in love

And having fun,

But fun wouldn’t last too long,

Love didn’t have too long to run.

 

You, a Dance kid

Of sweet nineteen,

Your record collection’s

Rock and Roll free,

Me, a relic

From a bygone scene,

 

We had nothing we could talk about,

All you ever did was shout,

About the DJs you’d seen,

In Ibiza and Berlin,

In the Babylons of Dance,

I didn’t stand a chance…

 

West London in the sun

Last summer of the millennium,

We were in love

And having fun,

But fun wouldn’t Last too long,

Love didn’t have too long to run.

 

Wicked Cahoots

 

When he made

his first personal appearance

in the dirty alley

on someone else's rusty bike,

screaming along

in a cloud of dust,

it rendered us all

speechless and motionless.

But I was amazed

that despite his grey-faced surliness,

he was very affable with us...

the bully with a naive

and sentimental heart.

He was so happy

to hear that I liked his dad,

or that my mum liked him,

and he was welcome

to come to tea

with us at five twenty five...

Our adventures were spectacular:

chasing after other bikesters,

screaming at the top

of our lungs

into blocks of flats,

and then running

as our echoed waves of terror

blended with incoherent threats...

"I'll call the Police, I'll..."

Wicked cahoots.

 

The Woodville Hall Soul Boys

 

Soon after I'd paid

My sixty

Or seventy pence,

I found myself

In what I thought

Was a miniature London.

I saw girls

In chandelier earrings,

In stiletto heels,

Wearing evening

Dresses,

Which contrasted with

The bizarre

Hair colours

They favoured:

Jet black

Or bleach blonde,

With flashes of

Red, Purple

Or green.

Some wore large

Bow ties,

Others unceremoniously

Hanged

Their school ties

Round their

Necks.

Eye make-up

Was exaggerated.

The boys all had

Short hair,

Wore mohair sweaters,

Thin ties,

Baggy,

Peg-top trousers

And winklepicker shoes.

A band playing

Raw street rock

At a frantic speed

Came to a sudden,

Violent climax...

Melodic, rhythmic,

Highly dancable

Soul music

Was now beginning

To fill the hall,

With another group

Of short-haired youths...

Smoother, more elegant,

Less menacing

Than the previous ones.

These well-dressed

Street boys

Wore well-pressed pegs

Of red or blue...

They pirouetted

And posed...

Pirouetted and posed.

 

The World from the Shadowlands

 

i'm not seeking an end to this sorrow, 

because i feel that feeling as sad, 

broken, remorseful as i am 

might propel me 

to doing something 

about changing my existence 

for the better, not temporarily, 

 

but permanently. 

i want this summer 

to be the summer 

whereby i effectuate this change, 

effectively return to the world 

from the shadowlands 

in which i've existed for so long.

 

Your Beautiful Lethal Life

                                                                   

Shooting star

With a quicksilver mind,

You deserve to go so far,

Can't someone stop you

Before you ruin your soul,

With irreversible harm?

                                                                    

Drinking all day, 

Every single day,

Out of your head on booze,

Is this the life, 

Is this the way,

A gifted child should choose?

                                                                   

Your beautiful lethal life

My friend,

Has sent you around the bend,

Your foolish defiant

Decadent dance

Could soon be at an end.

                                                                   

But you don't care

Do you, shooting star?

As you drift in your blissful dream.