Albatross (Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac)

The young and innocent sixteen-year-old
Stood in awe
In front of a full-size papier-mâché replica
Of a Nineteen-Thirties American automobile
Hung as it was from the students union ceiling
The main decoration
For the Molls & Gangsters Christmas ball
With live music
Courtesy of Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac

Those steps to the balcony
Are now steps in the multi-storey car park
Which go down to the ring road
Across which was the Technical College
Where the young sixteen-year-old
Studied Electrical Engineering
Yet desperately wanted to be in Art College
To make sculptures out of papier-mâché
Or to become a refined user of China Clay

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First Cut Is The Deepest (PP Arnold)

Another Christmas Eve Saturday night break-up
Another time with nowhere at all to go
Or rather
No one now to go out with
No swirling starlights
No girls eyeing up the boys
No boys
Becoming excited between the thighs

Sat alone in the darkness
The indefatigable darkness
Lined as with lining paper
All around the lost souls
No moons and no crescents
No presents of rich perfumes
No missions and no roasting chestnuts
All is a sense of deserting the lover’s last role

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Gin House Blues (Amen Corner)

Your introduction to the blues
Your first foray
Into the addictions of gin
Your first steps
From the bus-stop
Back into the house-party
Disentangled
By her looseness

Turning
You into the one of so few words
You into the one
Of so so little grace
You into the one
Almost entirely without compassion
You into the one
Who for fight or flight read flight

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If I Had A Boat (Lyle Lovett)

I forget
Did you forget too
I forget the film
With a cover version of his song
And don’t they say
That to cover is to compliment
And to make it the film’s leading song
Boy oh boy that is some praise indeed

Which is why I placed the Rothko
On the fifth wall
Which is why I placed the Rothko
On the bedroom wall
Which is why I now place the Rothko
On the lounge wall
Where finally the light
Is exactly what I am looking for

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Madame George (Van Morrison)

Less of a story
More your interior exposure
Yet still about the closure
Of a life taken too soon
A life taken way too soon
Not yet in heaven
Or in the overcast grey skies
Not counting to seven
Nor riding on the fairground rides

Play it again Sam
Think once more of Cypress Avenue
Those notes of sweet perfumes
Tunes that drift on by
Tunes that slowly drift on by
On those days of happenstance
Where fate alone could take its chance
Of those days on which to say goodbye
Wondering why you had to die

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