" Hello Darkness my old friend,i have come to sit with you again.." Such words are never fay away,they constantly linger below the horizon,melancholy madness picks up the tambourine, bangs like fuck on the thigh and the third movement begins.
I slipped last night " the sounds of silence " into the small plastic case and had fallen asleep before the end..no i am a rock...to linger over,no time to dwell when i first heard the track,no time to ponder how shocked i was to once hear it among the rattling baked bean cans on some remote super market shelf.
This coming Saturday brings the first year around,since i sat in Perth, Western Australia to say a life's goodbyes to my Uncle,The Crem was bright sunshine,but i might as well have been sat in rainy Manchester the conveyor belt had reached across the sea dedicating it's self to the clock,the music had not stopped playing before ushered through for coffee,no sooner had the sugar cubes melted than the next in line was apon us..for some reason i thought gosh Australia so laid back,i could take all day..but no the departed from this earth have no time to linger even in such sunshine for more than there allotted twenty minutes..seventy odd years condensed into twenty minutes.i sat there biting my inner cheek to keep up the stiff upper lip,women and children into the life boats first..i say chin chin....he deserved more,alot more..i choose gosh me..some " Acker Bilk..Stranger on the shore.."..for his dancing days..." Nessun Dorma " for all that V.B. bitter we used to drink as we sorted out the world problems under clear night skies, where stars clearly did look like diamonds i could pluck from the sky and slip in my pocket and take home to England..for God,Faith,Jelly Babies and what ever lies above the clouds " Abide With Me " the hymn that could possibly make me believe something beyond the ten shilling note.Every time i hear it a flash back to the end of " A Bridge To Far " is all i can think off it is not so much the glory of battle, but the amount of working class that became cannon fodder and the shite war pensions they pay and paid out.And they are still at it in our name, all that crap the other week surrounding a Gurkha who won the V.C.yet did not luv England enough to warrant coming to this green and pleasant land...
I think it is time to see if i can make the i am a rock....before melancholy takes up the frying pan..