Sniff
Because self-torture is fun, I’ve been trying to think of my favourite sweet, schmaltzy, sad song. I think the Beautiful South’s Prettiest Eyes has to be near the top. (It also carries the shame of being by the Beautiful South, the coolest uncool band in the land. Well, until they broke up.) What’s yours?
Line one is the time
That you, you first stayed over at mine
And we drank our first bottle of wine
And we criedLine two we’re away
And we both, we both had nowhere to stay
Well the bus shelter’s always OK
When you’re youngNow you’re older and I look at your face
Every wrinkle is so easy to place
And I only write them down just in case
That you dieLet’s take a look at these crows feet, just look
Sitting on the prettiest eyes
Sixty 25th of Decembers
Fifty-nine 4th of Julys
Not through the age or the failure, children
Not through the hate or despise
Take a good look at these crows feet
Sitting on the prettiest eyesLine three I forget
But I think, I think it was our first ever bet
And the horse we backed was short of a leg
NevermindLine four in a park
And the things, the things that people do in the dark
I could hear the faintest beat of your heart
Then we didNow you’re older and I look at your face
Every wrinkle is so easy to place
And I only write them down just in case
You should dieLets take a look at these crows feet, just look
Sitting on the prettiest eyes
Sixty 25th of Decembers
Fifty-nine 4th of Julys
You can’t have too many good times, children
You can’t have too many lines
Take a good look at these crows feet
Sitting on the prettiest eyesWell my eyes look like a map of the town
And my teeth are either yellow or they’re brown
But you’ll never hear the crack of a frown
When you are here
You’ll never hear the crack
Of a frown
Alone Again, Naturally by Gilbert O’Sullivan (It’s a little dark)
In a little while from now,
If I’m not feeling any less sour.
I promised myself, to treat myself,
And visit a nearby tower ……….
And climbing to the top,
Would throw myself off,
In an effort to, make clear to whoever,
What it’s like when your shattered …….
Left standing in a lurch,
In a church with people saying …..
My God, that’s tough, she stood him up,
No point in us remaining …….
I may as well go home,
As I did on my own,
Alone again, naturally.
To think that only yesterday,
I was cheerful, bright and gay.
Looking forward to, and who wouldn’t do,
The role I was about to play.
But as if to knock me down,
Reality came around,
And without so much as a mere touch,
Cut me into little pieces.
Leaving me to doubt, all about God and His mercy,
Oh, if He really does exist,
Why did He desert me?
And in my hour of need,
I truely am, indeed,
Alone again, naturally.
It seems to me that there are more hearts,
Broken in the world that can’t be mended,
Left unattended, what do we do?
What do we do?
Now looking back over the years,
And whatever else that appears.
I remember I cried when my father died,
Never wishing to hide the tears.
At sixty-five years old,
My mother, God rest her soul,
Couldn’t understand why the only man,
She had ever loved had been taken.
Leaving her to start, with a heart so badly broken,
Despite encouragement from me,
No words were ever spoken.
And when she passed away,
I cried and cried all day,
Alone again, naturally …..
Alone again …………………………… naturally.
Prettiest Eyes is a sweet (although indeed schmaltzy) love song. This is a refreshing break from the patronising and annoying leftist crap of all the Beautiful South’s other lyrics….
“One Less Bell To Answer” - it IS pretty schmaltzy but I have to say when Marilyn McCoo belts out that “tell me, how could he leave me?” at the end, it always gets me.