Category Archives: music
they say ev’ry man needs protection, they say ev’ry man must fall
some place so high above this wall.
i see my light come shining
from the west unto the east
and any day now, any day now
i shall be released.
as long as i gaze on waterloo sunset, i am in paradise.
It’s hard to even comprehend the events that have unfolded over the last few days in our beautiful capital, let alone make any sort of helpful comment on the matter. Instead, I’m leaning on Ray Davies for a little help. If I was anywhere near, I’d be knee-deep in a clean-up operation. As it stands, I’m watching from afar and sending my concern/hope/love.
there’s something happening here, what it is ain’t exactly clear
A long, arduous day of fruitless job-hunting. Fabulous for raising the spirits, no? At least I’m off out in a couple of hours. I only hope I’m better at eating food and drinking wine than I am at finding meaningful employment. One thing’s for sure: I know what I’m wearing (buying clothes is one thing I do very well, thank you very much). Oh and the soundtrack to my goggle-eyed day? Buffalo Springfield.
i’m going home, well it won’t be long, i didn’t do you wrong, oh my honey baby
I may have mentioned Kitty, Daisy and Lewis at Glastonbury once or twice. So, I thought it would only be right that I share some snaps with you. Sunday lunchtime; we warmed ourselves up with Fisherman’s Friends and then headed up to the Fields of Avalon. Hottest tent ever (paper plates make great fans). I loved it.
oh, is this the way they say the future’s meant to feel?
No prizes for guessing where I’ve been. I worked like a nutter in the week leading up to Glastonbury (my pay-packet handily landed smack bang in the middle of the farm). And then we went to Glastonbury. And then we came back on Monday. And then I’ve been recovering. And now I feel ready to talk. Of course it was wonderful, if a little hard work on the mud/sun front. Lots of pictures to come. And talk of breaking through a fence to see Jarvis. Finding hidden treasures in the Bimble Inn. Falling flat on my face on my way in. Popping to Cuba (ok, Cubana) for cheeky mojito sugar-fixes. And eating an obscene amount of pies. You know, just the usual.
tonight i’ll sing my songs again, i’ll play the game and pretend, mmmmm
…that all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity, like emptiness and harmony, i need someone to comfort me…homeward bound, i wish i was homeward bound.
and i’ll tell it and speak it and think it and breathe it…
then i’ll stand on the ocean until i start sinkin’,
but i’ll know my song well before i start singin’,
and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard,
it’s a hard rain’s a’gonna fall.
