Faster, faster, faster

They are automatically assuming that making choices means one of them is wrong but you know it’s right and you listen to the rhythmic click of the weldings in the rails whilst your train is leaving.

In your head a train of thoughts is running and you wonder if the road ahead is really what you want and you realise it won’t make a difference with the loneliness that lies behind.

The spray of steam and soot from the locomotive hits the window while you try to look past the landscape that is moving there in front of you before it’s getting dark in an hour or so from now and lights will pop on around you.

You don’t want them to find out you are heading for the late Summer sun on the vineyard you are traveling to, that place in Toscane that you saw in a movie which you wanted to be in so long ago.

Meanwhile your train is going southbound through countries that you remember from when you were young, through the landscape with the river and then mountains follow cold and dark and high.

And everything will be alright you think because you will be a Gardner for an old rich lady sleeping above the garage writing down your memoirs on an old typewriter that you found growing old in the evening sun with a glas of wine to salute the day.

Faster, faster, faster.

European Vacation

The dry heat in this dead town is murder
Your mouth is desperately longing for a beer
And your gums are aching they are bleeding red
Because they’ve had it with this French Baguette
You are longing so much for the soft warm skin
Of the woman that you love in your own bed
Against yours upstairs in your own home
Just a moment ago the Barley besides the road
Was waving frantically with the summer wind
Of the slipstream behind you of your car
Now you taste the salt on your dry lips
You were bored for hours at the beach
And you ask yourself yet again
What am I doing here?


When I turned the knob on my old tube radio
The needle on the dial slowly went from left to right
First Prag then to Stavanger, off to Sundsvall, Riga and Munich

And while the noise of places in between us could be heard
I was sure I heard a faint women’s voice coming from the speakers

I love you, you love me, love me, if you love me
Please come here and save me from this distant place
A thousand miles from you is where I am across that dial
Come and rescue me, rescue me, rescue me, love me, love me

Needle on the edge

Put the needle on the edge
O please I need cheering up
Put the needle on the edge
Play that record that I love
I got the needle in my vein
Yes it hurts so much I need
Music to heal my sorry soul
Put that record on the pin
Just a few hours more and
Then it is done for now so
Make a record sing for me
Put the needle on the edge
Because I need this miracle
I need this sickness healing
Put the needle on the edge

Waiting for her kiss

There were days that he vividly remembered
That song, the dance, it’s rhythm and scores
With his eyes closed he saw his girl swirling
Dancing graciously through their living room
And he thought, this is to me what real love is

She danced Pirouettes in her pink ballet dress
Tiptoeing as she was floating on dancing shoes
But forgotten that he had lost her years ago
He played the old Steinway in a nursing home
Still in love with her and waiting for her kiss

Angels we have heard on high

From up there in the house she wants us all to know
That long ago Jesus Christ was born
Her voice coming from her bedroom in the attic above
On this winter Christmas morn’

Joy to the world, peace on earth
Are the words she keeps on singing
I don’t care if she sings it all day long

The house would be so quiet if she wasn’t here today
Or if there was no joyful song to sing
But nothing in the entire world is pleasing me more
Then to hear her sing about our King

And I put the needle on the record
So she can hear the bells are ringing
In the rhythm of her Christmas song

Angels we have heard on high …