Miss you nights

Words and music by DAVE TOWNSEND
From the 1976 CLIFF RICHARD album
I'M NEARLY FAMOUS
Released as a single in 1975

I've long been fascinated by these lyrics, and never cease to be surprised that Cliff released the single in 1975; it is perpetually relevant. To try to live as well as you can doesn't make you immune to the tortures of loneliness: the song says it all. BTW with his song Thank you for a Lifetime the Knight has entered the top ten in each of the six decades of his career. Well done, Cliff!

I've had many times
I can tell you
Times when innocence I'd trade for company
And children saw me crying
I thought I'd had my share of that
But these miss you nights
Are the longest

Midnight diamonds
Stud my heaven
Southward burning
Lie the jewels that eye my place
And the warm winds
That embrace me
Just as surely kissed your face
Yeah these miss you nights
Are the longest

How I miss you
Im not likely to tell
Im a man and cold day light
Buys the pride Id rather sell
All my secrets
Are wasted affair
You know them well

Thinking of my going
How to cut the thread
And leave it all behind
Looking windward for my compass
I take each day as it arrives
But these miss you nights
Are the longest

Lay down all thought of your surrender
Its only me whos killing time
Lay down all dreams and themes once remembered
Its just the same
This miss you game
Yeah these miss you nights
Are the longest

A better place to be

Words and music by HARRY CHAPIN
From his 1972 album SNIPER AND OTHER LOVE SONGS

A kitchen-sink epic from the pen of Harry Chapin. The "little man" who is the main protagonist is trying to find the opposite of loneliness. He is on the brink of discovering that this is friendship, not sex, but the waitress' reply to him which forms the last line of the song shows that for her the vicious circle continues.

It was an early morning bar room,
And the place just opened up.
And the little man came in so fast and
he Started at his cups.
And the broad who served the whisky
She was a big old friendly girl.
Who tried to fight her empty nights
By smilin' at the world.

And she said "Hey Bub, It's, It's been awhile
Since you been around.
Where the hell you been hidin'?
And why you look so down?"

Well the little man just sat there
like he'd never heard a sound.

The waitress she gave out with a cough,
And acting not the least put off,
She spoke once again.

She said, "I don't want to bother you,
Consider it's understood.
I know I'm not no beauty queen,
But I sure can listen good."

And the little man took his drink in his hand
And he raised it to his lips.
He took a couple of sips.
And then he told the waitress this story.

"I am the midnight watchman down at Miller's Tool and Die.
And I watch the metal rusting, I watch the time go by.
A week ago at the diner I stopped to get a bite.
And this here lovely lady she sat two seats from my right.
And Lord, Lord, Lord she was alright.

You see, she was so damned beautiful that she could warm a winter frost.
But she looked long past lonely, and well I on to lost.
Now I'm not much of a mover, or a pick-em-up easy guy,
But I decided to glide on over, and give her one good try.
And Lord, Lord, Lord she was worth a try.

Well I was "Tongued-tied like a school boy, I stammered out some words.
It did not seem to matter much, 'cause I don't think she heard.
She just looked clear on through me to a space back in my head.
It shamed me into silence, as quietly she said,
'If you want me to come with you, then that's all right with me.
Cause I know I'm going nowhere, and anywhere's a better place to be.
Anywhere's a better place to be.'

Well I drove her to my boarding house, and I took her up to my room.
And I went to turn on the only light to brighten up the gloom.
But she said, 'Please leave the light off, oh I don't mind the dark.'
And as her clothes all tumbled 'round her, I could hear my heart.
The moonlight shone upon her as she lay back in my bed.
It was the kind of scene I only had imagined in my head.
I just could not believe it, to think that she was real.
And as I tried to tell her she said 'Shhh.. I know just how you feel.
And if you want to come here with me, then that's all right with me.
'Cause I've been oh so lonely, lovin' someone is a better way to be.
anywhere's a better place to be.'

Well The morning come so swiftly I held her in my arms.
And she slept like a baby, snug and safe from harm.
I did not want to share her or dare to break the mood,
So before she woke I went out to buy us both some food.

"I came back with my paper bag, to find that she was gone.
She'd left a six word letter saying 'It's time that I moved on.'"

You know The waitress she took her bar rag, and she wiped it across her eyes. And as she spoke her voice came out as something like a sigh.
She said "I wish that I was beautiful, or that you were halfway blind.
And I wish I weren't so goddamn fat, I wish that you were mine.
And I wish that you'd come with me, when I leave for home.
For we both know all about emptiness, and livin' all alone."

And the little man,
Looked at the empty glass in his hand.
And he smiled a crooked grin,
He said, "I guess I'm out of gin.
And I know we both have been, so lonely.
And if you want me to come with you, then that's all right with me.
'Cause I know I'm goin' nowhere and anywhere's a better place to be."

Lakeside Park

Words by NEIL PEART
Music by ALEX LIFESON and GEDDY LEE
From the RUSH album CARESS OF STEEL (1975)

This is one of my favourite Rush songs. Every time I go back to Scotland another space associated with years past has been built on, a shop has changed hands, somebody else has died. Although the memories in this song are vastly different from mine, the songwriters have captured perfectly the sense of the magic of childhood fading slowly as one progresses through teenage years, balanced by another magic as memories are laid down that will, please God, remain forever.

Midway hawkers calling
Try your luck with me
Merry-go-round wheezing
The same old melody
A thousand ten cent wonders
Who could ask for more
A pocketful of silver
The key to heaven's door

Lakeside Park
Willows in the breeze
Lakeside Park
So many memories
Laughing rides
Midway lights
Shining stars on summer nights

Days of barefoot freedom
Racing with the waves
Nights of starlit secrets
Crackling driftwood flames
Drinking by the lighthouse
Smoking on the pier
Still we saw the magic
Fading every year

Everyone would gather
On the twenty-fourth of May
Sitting in the sand
To watch the fireworks display

Dancing fires on the beach
Singing songs together
Though it's just a memory
Some memories last forever

Helpless Dancer

Words and music by PETE TOWNSHEND
From THE WHO album QUADROPHENIA (1973)

The last two lines of the first verse are depressingly familiar today, over 30 years since the song was written.

When a man is running from his boss
Who hold a gun that fires "cost"
And people die from being old
Or left alone because they're cold

And bombs are dropped on fighting cats
And children's dreams are run with rats
If you complain you disappear
Just like the lesbians and queers

No one can love without the grace
Of some unseen and distant face
And you get beaten up by blacks
Who though they worked still got the sack

And when your soul tells you to hide
Your very right to die's denied
And in the battle on the streets
You fight computers and receipts

And when a man is trying to change
It only causes further pain
You realize that all along
Something in us going wrong...

You stop dancing.

Footprints in the sand

Words and Music by RICHARD PAGE, PER MAGNUSSEN,
DAVID KREUGER AND SIMON COWELL
From the LEONA LEWIS album SPIRIT (2007)
and also released as a single (2008)

Leona Lewis won the third series of The X Factor. I wasn't too hot on her because my musical tastes are stuck in a time-loop that starts another cycle backwards when it reaches the early '90's. But my arrogance was revealed to me when my daughter played this track to me today. It's a meditation on the popular prayer-poem Footprints, and Ms Lewis has ascended mightity in my estimation.

You walked with me
Footprints in the sand
And helped me understand
Where I'm going

You walked with me
When I was all alone
With so much unknown
Along the way

And just when I
I thought I'd lost my way
You gave me strength to carry on
That's when I heard you say

I promise you
I'm always there
When your heart is filled with sorrow
And despair

And I'll carry you
When you need a friend
You'll find my footprints in the sand
When I'm weary
Well I know you'll be there
Cause I can feel you
When you say

I promise you
I'm always there
When your heart is filled with sadness and despair
Oh, I'll carry you
When you need a friend
You'll find my footprints in the sand

[choir]

When your heart is full of sadness and despair
I'll carry you
When you need a friend

I promise you
I'm always there
When you need a friend
You'll find my footprints
In the sand

I don't know how to love him

Words and music by
ANDREW LLOYD WEBBER and TIM RICE
From the album JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR (1970)

I'm listening to an instrumental version of this on BBC Radio 2's Friday Night is Music Night, hosted by Paul Gambuccini. It struck me that it perfectly describes Jesus' tendency to turn lives upside down in a way that only a fool would describe as warm and fuzzy.

I don't know how to love him
What to do, how to move him
I've been changed, yes really changed
In these past few days when I've seen myself
I seem like someone else

I don't know how to take this
I don't see why he moves me
He's a man, he's just a man
And I've had so many men before
In very many ways
He's just one more

Should I bring him down
Should I scream and shout
Should I speak of love
Let my feelings out?
I never thought I'd come to this
What's it all about?

Don't you think it's rather funny
I should be in this position?
I'm the one who's always been
So calm, so cool, no lover's fool
Running every show
He scares me so

Yet if he said he loved me
I'd be lost, I'd be frightened
I couldn't cope, just couldn't cope
I'd turn my head, I'd back away
I wouldn't want to know

He scares me so
I want him so
I love him so

She is always seventeen

Words and music by HARRY CHAPIN
From the compilation STORY OF A LIFE (1999)

The chronicles of a liberal adolescence! But I love harry Chapin's sense of tragic theatre, and the first two, and last lines of this song do it for me: "she has no fear of failure, she's not bent with broken dreams/for the future's just beginning when you're always seventeen"; and "she's the only hope I've seen, and she is always seventeen". Misguided as they can be, where would we as societies get our hopes from, if not from dreamers?

She has no fear of failure, she's not bent with broken dreams.
For the future's just beginning when you're always seventeen

It was nineteen sixty-one when we went to Washington;
she put her arms around me and said, "Camelot's begun."
We listened to his visions of how our land should be;
we gave him our hearts and minds to send across the sea.
Nineteen sixty-three, white and black upon the land;
she brought me to the monuments and made us all join hands.
And scarcely six months later she held me through the night
when we heard what had happened in that brutal Dallas light.

Oh, she is always seventeen;
she has a dream that she will lend us and a love that we can borrow.
There is so much joy inside her she will even share her sorrow;
she's our past, our present, and our promise of tomorrow.
Oh, truly she's the only hope I've seen, and she is always seventeen.

It was nineteen sixty-five and we were marching once more
from the burning cities against a crazy war.
Memphis, L.A. and Chicago we bled through sixty-eight
till she took me up to Woodstock saying with love it's not too late.
We started out the seventies living off the land;
she was sowing seeds in Denver trying to make me understand
that mankind is woman and woman is man,
and until we free each other we cannot free the land.

Oh, she is always seventeen;
she has a dream that she will lend us and a love that we can borrow.
There is so much joy inside her she will even share her sorrow;
she's our past, our present, and our promise of tomorrow.
Oh, truly she's the only hope I've seen, and she is always seventeen.

Nineteen seventy-two, I'm at the end of my rope,
but she was picketing the White House chanting,
"The truth's the only hope."
In nineteen seventy-five when the crooked king was gone
she was feeding starving children saying the dream must go on.
she is always seventeen;
she has a dream that she will lend us and a love that we can borrow.
There is so much joy inside her she will even share her sorrow;
she's our past, our present, and our promise of tomorrow.
Oh, truly she's the only hope I've seen, and she is always seventeen

The farm

Words and music by GERRY BECKLEY
From the AMERICA album
ENCORE: MORE GREATEST HITS (1991)

The reference to Daisy in the song links it to the wistful love song Daisy Jane; the narrator has got his girl, but they have hit hard times and are thinking, for them, the unthinkable. Although the band is not overtly political, the first line seems to be a comment on the fine objectives of Band Aid/Live Aid in relation to poverty in the countries whose acts were going to save the world with their music and other people's money.

We're feedin' the world but we can't feed ourselves
They tell us don't plant now but there's nothing on the shelves
If someone is watchin' down from above
What in the world is he thinkin' of

Daisy I think we must sell the farm
And you know I don't wanna cause alarm
The times are a changin', the money is gone
Where do we go from here, where do we go from here

If someone is watchin' down from above
What in the world is he thinkin' of
Daisy I think we must sell the farm
And you know I don't wanna cause you harm

The times are a changin', the money is gone
Where do we go from here, where do we go from here
Where do we go from here

Wooden boat

Words and music by
TAKE THAT, EG WHITE and JOHN SHANKS
From the TAKE THAT album BEAUTIFUL WORLD (2006)

The melancholy lyrics of this deconstructed and reconstructed boy band show a wistfulness for what has gone and been lost, and what one hopes is to come.

A little boy me went fishing in a wooden boat
Sitting there for hours in the cold
Patience is a virtue til we die
Then a ripple in the water caught my eye.

Sometimes we don't know what we're waiting for
That's the time to be the first one on the dance floor
We go from green to blue to gold to black
Breathe deep, who knows how long this will last.

Only was last week I learnt to drive
I stole my mother's keys and drove all night
Christine never showed it's 4 am
I started up mum's car drove home again.

Sometimes we don't know what we're waiting for
That's the time to be the first one on the dance floor
We go from green to blue to gold to black
Breathe deep, who knows how long this will last.

One year ago I've kissed my bride
Now I wait to hear my baby's cry
Woman showed me all that she knew then
To cut himself down man's born again.

Sometimes we don't know what we're waiting for
That's the time to be the first one on the dance floor
We go from green to blue to gold to black
Breathe deep, who knows how long this will last.

Christine died and now I'm here alone
What I wouldn't give to be on that wooden boat.

Crescent noon

Music by JOHN BETTIS
and RICHARD CARPENTER
From the CARPENTERS album
CLOSE TO YOU (1970)

I don't think I could be accused of having SAD because I tend to be a winter person; I like the colours and the cold. This song's words are rather doleful, but the warm minor chords of Richard Carpenter's arrangement hints at the promise of spring.

Green September
Burned to October brown
Bare November
Led to December's frozen ground
The seasons stumbled round
Our drifting lives are bound
To a falling crescent noon

Feather clouds cry
A vale of tears to earth
Morning breaks and
No one sees the quiet mountain bird
Dressed in a brand new day
The sun is on its way
To a falling crescent noon

Somewhere in
A fairytale forest lies one
Answer that is waiting to be heard

You and I were
Born like the breaking day
All our seasons
All our green Septembers
Burn away

Slowly we'll fade into
A sea of midnight blue
And a falling crescent noon

Another try

Words and music by GERRY BECKLEY
From the AMERICA album HOLIDAY (1974)

This is a song I discovered many years ago, and seems a very powerful description of the effects of a father's alcoholism on his son, who wants his Mum to "pick up the phone" and order his Dad home. Gerry Beckley tends to write songs in the form of stories, a bit like Paul McCartney, so it's hard to tell if this comes from Beckley's own experience, that of a friend, or is merely a story. Whichever, the song packs a punch.

Hey, Daddy just lost his pay
What did he do it for
It never made it through our door
He drank the week away
And what can a family say
There must be a better way
Now mama don't start to cry
Let's give him another try

Pick up the telephone
Tell him you want him home
To sit and watch the evenings pass
And readin' the Leaves of Grass

I'm caught in a closing door
It's pinning me to the floor
Now mama don't start to cry
Let's give him another try

I'm caught in a closing door
It's pinning me to the floor
Now mama don't start to cry
Let's give him another try

When we're old and gray
And the things we say are the things we really mean
So why cause a scene
When things ain't what they seem
'Cause the end result's the same
Now what can a family say
There must be a better way
Now mama don't start to cry
Let's give him another try

One better day

Words and music by GRAHAM McPHERSON and MARK BEDFORD
From the Madness album KEEP MOVING (1984)
Released as a single (1984)

This is a haunting and disturbing song, and if you don't agree then there's something wrong with you. In my view this is the best song about homelessness and loneliness since Ralph McTell's Streets of London, and is easily better than Phil Collins' histrionic Another Day in Paradise. Listen, then do.

Arlington house
Address no fixed abode
An old man in a three-piece suite
Sits in the road
He stares across the water
And sees right through the lock
But on and up like outstretched hands
His mumbled words, his fumbled words

Further down theres a photo booth
A million plastic bags
And an old woman filling out
A million baggage tags
But when she get thrown out
Three bags at a time
She spies the old chap in the road
To share her bags with, she has bags of time

Surrounded by his past
On a short white line
He sits while cars pass
Either side
Takes his time
Trying to remember
One better day
A while ago when people stopped
To hear him say

Walking round you sometimes
Hear the sunshine
Beating down in time with the
Rhythm of your shoes

Now she has walked
Enough through rainy town
She rests her back against his
And sits down
Shes trying to remember
One better day
Awhile ago when people stopped
To hear her say

Walking round you sometimes
Hear the sunshine
Beating down in time with the
Rhythm of your shoes

Walking round you sometimes
Hear the sunshine
Beating down in time with the
Rhythm of your shoes

The feeling of arriving
When youve nothing left to lose