avevale_intelligencer | Work In Progress

Or not, depending if you think there's anything in it.

For Sandy

Chorus
The wind's not kind to candles when they get left outside,
The frost is cruel to forest flowers with their petals open wide,
And swallows seldom stay around to feel the winter's cold;
Some singers just aren't meant to grow too old.

Verse
You loved the songs your granny sang, you longed to do the same
Love's summer brought a warm breeze to fan the candle flame
And who knows where the time went on your endless holiday
Or just how soon the sun would fade away.

Verse
You loved to break Convention, you broke yours a time or two,
But when the Fairport's blocked by storms, then any port will do,
A big fish in a little pond, into the stream you swam
And dreamed of what might lie beyond the dam.

Verse
And when the candle guttered, you re-lit it at both ends
Drowned out the inner voices, and the voices of your friends
They tried to help you cope with all the stresses and the strains
Of a life that was too full of sad refrains.

Verse
And now it's four and thirty years since you left the scene
It was the fall that killed you, though it wasn't quick or clean
And more people mourned your passing than you would ever know
You had no thought of leaving, but still you had to go.

Outro
And whether you'd be singing now, or writing, who can tell?
Perhaps you were just building to one last farewell, farewell...

Sent from my iPad