Making Movies in New York
There’s a big thing happening in the city
B King is leaving a lasting impression
Bob Dylan is playing the harmonica
Someone is calling my name, in my brain
Telling me I need an orchestra
I need a job
Trying too hard to find one
Journalism, freelance, looking for another headline
To give someone another fix,
An ego massage
Looking for a recording studio
Got a repertoire of songs records to cut
But no one to listen to
I can’t make any sense
Of what I look at
I can’t find a home anywhere
Just part of the furniture
Going nowhere I need to rest
They want what is on the record
That’s why they buy the tickets
The Old Grey Whistle Test
Suddenly found myself in an avalanche of activity
A million dollars did just nicely
Channelled along just on a whim of an experience
Felt like Hendrix but something went wrong
There’s a price to pay that I cannot afford
Yeah it’s a great sound everyone says so
But no time to get any better at this
Compromising my intellect like an actor
Just with the same old script
No time to write a new line
Just a figure of speech
Like a figure of fun without a dime
I’m just making movies in New York
With a love song so many sung
Who cannot tune in with you
Cause one of us is in the wrong key
Colours of the rainbow just like my Romeo
Something has just got to happen
Somehow something real
Taking down the dictation
Doing best I can feeling still like a small town guy?
Where everything seems so surreal
I grew up in a village
Had never before been on a roller coaster
Just sandy beaches were enough for me
Trying now to tie it all together
Colour-co-ordination
Influences to who I am
What have I become
I won’t walk away this time
Resting one hand on the wall
Writing a ditty note
Trying to hard again
Arrogance and pride always comes before a fall
I found the connection when not looking for it
Picked up another award I’m bound
Make one there and you’re off the ground
But nothing reflects and nothing connects
With the journey I’m writing of
So I do it in animation
Mist settling on the mountains
Everything below corrodes
Even iron will rust and goes back to dust
Longing for love in place of lustreless lust
It’s just an Air to sing of two lost kin
Trapped in a tower of suffering
Everyone dies and the answer is not found in the skies
Stars shine on everyone the same
Every song has a name
Every one for an occasion
Life, death or just a party
Maybe a wedding celebration
I wrote a classic on a kitchen table
I played it on two strings
On an old guitar I bought for couple of quid
A price an obscure observer might pay
For a coffee in a posh restaurant
I see you in my dreams
Still sitting there waiting for my benefit
Back on the road stages are all around
Everywhere I go, like a circus without the chorus
Just a screaming crowd
Their manageable levels fit neatly into place
Into shape the mirror works this time
Your soul reflected in mine
This our last goodbye
Yet you say you never knew
You never heard a single word
This is the last word goodbye
You have come back again
Resurrected in an hospital bed
Let’s look out together through the open windows
It’s bright and sunny outside
I mention when I’m old
I’ll do it in a rocking chair
And do it for money
Feeling the change, maybe sing a ballad
But that was not why I came back
Just for now I’ll buy a T-Shirt
With a logo motif written on it
Across the front like a headline
“Stay on the run”
Just steeling your time
I need no money
I got mine
I’m leaving you empty this time
We go our separate ways
Like a captain on a ship
I steer my crew home
With pride taking every one of us back
Like it used to be in old pictures
I wave goodbye it’s better than nothing
I just tried to make my dreams come true
And when they do you can come too
We are friends until the end, then
We kiss still hoping we will meet again
As you close your eyes forever Amen!
