A Whiter Shade Of Pale (Procul Harum)

Yes, yes, yes you were somewhat special
Yes you did predict it would be number one
Before anyone else took any notice
No need to understand the lyrics or the meaning
For you it is emotion and grace which come first
And that song, yes that song
It hit you right there in your solar plexus
With its layers of grace, of grace and emotion

Since then you have looked into the light
Still without worry of the meaning
You are here and you are with us
No longer the whiter shade of pale
No longer the doubter of doubts
You are here and you are with us
No longer the spiller of tears
Yes, yes, yes you are somewhat special

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Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay (Otis Redding)

Skimming pebbles on the ocean
Sipping cocktails on the boardwalk
Twisting worry beads through the fingers
Keeping death another world away
Reading papers in the sunlight
Buying the NME for the music charts
Who is that soulful singer
Whose words sweetly and succinctly let us sway

That Saturday afternoon
In the closing down sale electric shop
Light Blue Stax and Red Atlantic records
Forty-fives for the less than twenty-fives
I bought them and I played them
I kept them for more than many a day
Light Blue Stax and Red Atlantic records
They set me up as the man who went astray

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Flower Duet (Léo Delibes)

All of those years
At the opera
In the music collection
Even selected for the funeral service
Played
In every room in this house
Yet only yesterday
Translated into English

Such that you could be by the river bank
Such that you could be holding hands
Such that you too
Could be there together
Going on forever
Going on and on and on forever
Hitting the high notes graciously
Not dwelling too too long on the low notes

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Suite Française (Rael Jones)

Flames of letters burning
She picks remnants from the ashes
Stylus on the record-player slowly turning
His hands held out
As an invitation to dance
Piano lid suggestively opened
Might I play you something he once said
As he stared out way beyond the distance

We never talk of love in this house
We never ever talk of love
I only met my husband twice
Before we were married
Now I read that he was unfaithful
He fathered a child by another woman
Told to me within these barren letters
From those who I have come to loathe

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Unbutton The Past, It Is The Future

I am driving by the airport now, which makes me think
Of my Friday afternoon flights to Jersey
Today there are two jets on the tarmac
Most probably bound for Amsterdam or Denmark
Or Finland; perhaps places further North, Reykjavik even

I would like to go to any of those places
I would love to have met up with you there
Or even to have taken you with me
But it wasn't to be
I did send you a postcard from Stockholm
Perhaps that is as close as we ever ought to have been

Alternatively
I would like to go to any of those places
I would love to meet up with you there
Or even to take you with me
Become closer to you than you ever might have allowed

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