Born In The USA (Bruce Springsteen)

I have been there
Didn’t I just go on and on
About Monet’s painting
In the Museum Of Modern Art
The hairs on my neck bristling
From quite a distance away
Before hiding my head in the footwell
As we drove through the Bronx

Also
The abject change of lifestyle
Across the traffic lights
Of Fifth Avenue
Oh and don’t let me forget
That bookshop in Santa Monica
Where I bought Calvino’s Invisible Cities
Along with postcards to write if not post

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All The Young Dudes (Mott The Hoople)

High waist
Lime-green satin trousers
Skin-tight to the thighs
Intense bell bottoms
To cover the Cuban heels
A dyed-red safari jacket
With sleeve ends
Of deepest-purple calf leather

West-Coast American bands
Grateful Dead and the like
Not ideally suited
To the English downpours
Not ideally suited
To the English tastes in music
Rather we preferred The Who
Followed by José Feliciano

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I Heard It Through The Grapevine (Marvyn Gaye)

Youth clubs
And teenage disappointments
Playing at being the DJ
Wearing skin-tight sky-blue jeans

You thought she smiled at you
You thought she said hello
Her friend said: my friend
Wants to go out with you
What might you now need to know

Conversation was not a problem
Until the two of you were left alone
Dancing in a group came easy
Her style being
To quietly command the zone

But then came the night of the all-nighter
Together in joined-up sleeping bags
The fondling and the pretend sleeping
Before your hopes began to flag

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Parisienne Walkways (Gary Moore)

Oliver Reed was being mischievous
On the aeroplane back from the court
Mona Lisa was smiling
On your way to the jurisdiction
Drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes
In the Place de la République
Sat in the sun also on the steps
Of the Musée du Louvre

Later with your esteemed translator
Stood in front of the judge who said
We don’t allow you to walk away
We don’t want you to walk away
Yet your smile soon disarmed him
Your infectious enthusiasm
Won them all over
Until the day when you walked away

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Whole Lotta Love (Led Zeppelin)

Way before Wichita Lineman
We thought the juke-box was ours
Way before Desert Island Discs
We thought the juke-box was ours
Swaying on the sodden sticky carpets
Strumming away on our favourite air guitars
Playing fast to impress the young ladies
Straying past for all and sundry to see

He moved on and she moved on
They moved on and we moved on
Two nights running we saw them
Two nights
Sleeping on the air vents
Outside the two cities railway stations
Two nights
Screaming out that life is a Whole Lotta Love

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