In The Days That Used To Be

In The Days That Used To Be

By Paul McCann

In days of golden shimmers when I sat on carousels with music playing in my head and the laughter of children, like a whirly gig spiralling on a platform of cowboys and clowns passing by on streets,  in a colourful parade of everyday life around the village in the northernly section of the province where we lived there around the green green grass of home , we had a ticket to life in rooms beyond the sky .

At night time we sat on sleeping sidewalks with all the overhead lights above turned on brightly by the cosmic power stations far beyond twilight time and there we spoke of how good it was to be alive in a world with no rules or regualtions . It was so good then and there to be part of that experience but how was I to know then that I was one of the lucky few who had a jukebox in my head on floors of cushioned velvet with wallpaper clouds on the windows of my mind . In thise days it was good just to plug into live concerts and drift away into the astral plains of a subconscious existence and listen to the greatest songs that had ever been written and sung since the beginning of time .

I felt very honoured , because not many have jukeboxes in their heads and if I may , exaggerate just a little bit , to tell you the truth , what a journey life has been with songs to hear and sing on every corner of the earth . with many unexpected places that not many will ever see and somehow, I’m guessing that its ok to feel lost in this unknown world without a ticket to return back to reality .

As a matter of fact , I never thought I’d see days like this in my lifetime and here am I and there was I to be living the dream without a ticket to paradise or owning a travel pass back to the days when things were much better when everyone had the good old giggle days at how things were before time had started its circulation around the world , long before any of us had ever been born .

It must have been so good then , before times changed, but still here we are and who would have believed that we could have survived to still have the ability to hear songs in our heads on jukeboxes in rooms beyond the sky in gardens long before there were car parks with boom gates, in cities that where too busy to talk about the days that used to be .

The nights now seem to be much darker that they were before and no one walks in the park anymore with jukeboxes in their heads . I make sure I try to explore the possibilities of what if there were better days ahead before they come and hope that it will become a reality and maybe there will be more people with jukeboxes in their heads as well that can appreciate rooms beyond the sky where roses bloom and time drops onto these pockets without looking for a reason to grow old of leave the beauty of how it was in the days that used to be .

The End

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