Sunday, July 25, 2010

UP TO song number 100 this afternoon, as I continue to get them into order: formatted, filed and, if need be, rewritten. This song was one that needed some rewriting. Originally from 1988, it does have its share of cliched thoughts but I left most of the first two verses and the chorus much as they were -- just changed a word or two, here and there.

The final verse, though, needed more and is pretty thoroughly rewritten. Whatever one might say about the song now, it can certainly be said that it is better than it was! This piece lives in Bossa land but could no doubt 'swing' across the border into jazz territory.


They say that lovers talk
late into the night
And share a thousand plans
by the stars' soft light:
Of all the things that could be
and all the things that might
In a world that is theirs
and a future that is bright.

We used to be such lovers,
we used to share such dreams;
We would spend the hours
painting future scenes.
But those nights are long over,
we wasted them it seems,
On empty words and wishes
and on useless schemes.

The night is for sharing dreams and desires
the passions that burn within us like fires,
But we share nothing but a silent bed;
could it be our passions are dead?
Why is it nothing is said,
why is it nothing is said?

Now we say nothing
when we are near;
We seem to listen,
yet never hear,
Our feelings safe behind
a familiar veneer.
Why don't we talk;
what do we fear?

Stephen Brooke ©1988

So, a hundred down. Lots more to go! Then I should probably sit down and do quick recordings of each for archiving, as I'm unlikely to work out the tunes in notation anytime soon. Maybe oughta-should have backup copies online too.

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