(Words and music: (c) Robin Hill except where stated)
"And is it really all that strange That life moves on, directions change?"
"Lucy
And The Rainbow" was my twentieth completed collection. It's
based loosely around "coming of age". Originally I had
an idea to give the entire collection a vaguely 1960s / 1970s
theme, in tribute to my own "halcyon" days. A small
core of songs do match the theme. But in the end I didn't go full
tilt down that road, and was better pleased with the overall
result.
A wider theme concerns moments when you discover that reality
doesn't quite match the dreams you had - a situation with which
most of us, at some time or other, will be all too familiar!
Despite the subject matter, most of the songs are not
particularly autobiographical. As always, too, the characters
mentioned in the songs (Lucy, Stacey) are fictional. They
represent nobody, or anybody, as befits your interpretation.
PAGE HISTORY:
Page / Scores and Tabs / Notes: all added November 2019
Low quality audio samples added between September and November 2023.
All words (and music) are copyrighted. Any adaptation or duplication without consent is a breach of copyright.
A CLOWN IN EMPTY BOOTS
(Words and music: Robin Hill)
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So
there you are,
A clown with wonky nose,
Sad eyes peering through the custard pie,
As laughing children slowly start to cry.
So there you stand,
A clown in empty boots,
Naked but for whirly twirly tie,
As spinning self respect begins to die.
So there you go,
A clown without a Kleenex,
Lipstick smudges spoil the feigned surprise,
With more than greasepaint running from your eyes.
(Contents)
LUCY AND THE RAINBOW
(Words and music: Robin Hill)
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Soft
eyes now lit bright,
Driven on by starlight,
Lucy checks the name of the hotel,
Waves away the taxi,
Hurries up to floor three,
Trembling as she reaches for the bell
Fingers now crossed tight,
Hoping that she looks right,
Leather boots and shapely legs combine,
Mini skirt revealing
More than it’s concealing,
And what the hell, it’s 1969.
Did you find what you were looking for,
Is this what you imagined in your head?
Did fortune dance there with you, dark and dusty on the floor,
Or pose there right beside you on that vaguely musty bed?
Back streets of Soho.
Pot of gold and rainbow,
Maybe it was time to cross that line,
Hopes that gently flutter,
With the clicking of a shutter,
And what the hell, it’s 1969.
(Contents)
IN THE MEADOW
(Words and music: Robin Hill)
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So
softly, then, she calls his name,
Like whispers from a lovers’ game
Down there in the meadow:
The flowers she places at his feet
Will wither in the summer heat
Down there in the field
Figures rise and float unseen
Blending soft to black and green
Down there in the meadow,
Briefly caught through half closed eyes,
Like fleeting summer butterflies
Down there in the field
Many years have come and gone
Yet still the memory lingers on
Down there in the meadow:
Softly, still, she calls his name
Like echoes from a lover’s game
Down there in the field
(Contents)
NO-ONE SAW
(Words and music: Robin Hill)
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No-one
saw you running through the sand dunes,
Windmill tilting arms and windswept hair,
Barefoot tracks that formed, in perfect writing,
“SOS!” when viewed from in the air.
No-one saw you sliding on the ice field,
Legs and arms akimbo, flailing high,
Backside tracing out, in rounded letters,
“Help!” when viewed from somewhere in the sky.
No-one seemed to spot the slightest gesture,
No-one seemed to hear the faintest sound,
No-one smelt the fear, or tasted danger,
No-one felt the tremors in the ground.
No-one saw you tumbling down the mountain:
Did you fall or give yourself a shove?
Scattered boulders spelling, in the valley,
“Sod it all!” when viewed from up above.
(Contents)
WHERE DID LARRY GO?
(Words and Music: Robin Hill)
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You
stopped to check the signposts
To find out where he’d gone,
But if they had an answer,
They failed to point you on;
And is it really all that strange
If life moves on, directions change?
You stopped to stare at signposts,
But the signposts didn’t show
Just where did Larry go?
You punched into the Sat Nav
Her last known when and where,
But if it found a target,
It didn’t guide you there;
And is it really so bizarre
To switch the routes to who we are?
You programmed up the Sat Nav
But the Sat Nav didn’t know
Which way did Carrie go?
You filled the box on Google
With every detail known.
But if it found the vaguest match,
Still no results were shown;
And is it really so profound
To alter strings by which we’re found?
You searched at length with Google,
But Google couldn’t show
Quite where did Harry go?
(Contents)
STACEY
(Words and Music: Robin Hill)
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Stacey
was a dancer,
And dance was all she ever longed to do:
Bright lights, bright music,
Life then seemed whole,
Star-eyed dreams that lined the way,
Contentment just a reach away
Stacey was a stripper,
It helped whenever dancing work fell through:
Soft lights, soft music,
Still in control,
Dance was dance, so that’s okay
And life moved forward anyway
Stacey was a call girl;
It came to be the only life she knew:
Dim lights, dark silence,
Dim dark soul,
A deed to do and rent to pay
Her motto through each long hard day
(Contents)
RUST
(Words and music: Robin Hill)
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So,
were there voices warning in your head,
Of victories that just might never last?
And did you listen to a word they said
When futures slipped to blunt and grinding past?
You took your chances and they seemed to pay
In glittered hurrahs throughout the night,
But golden reputations fade away
To rust within the pale morning light;
The satisfaction as you stood again,
To take that well deserved applause,
Turned to disappointment as you grasped in vain
At prizes that were simply never yours;
The friends you won became the friends you lost,
In spirals of erosion and decay,
Their sparkle weathered by the gripping frost
To rust within the cold light of day;
And so, did you live to learn the lavish price
Of thinking every triumph to be real:
A turn of luck made good with tumbling dice
Negated by the spinning of a wheel?
And did your flaws, in all their devious ways,
Corrode the good intentions of your dreams,
And turn these sequences of blinding plays,
To rust within the flywheels your schemes?
(Contents)
THE CIRCLES OF OUR LIVES
(Words and music: Robin Hill)
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Somewhere
behind you is the shore you hope to reach,
Somewhere in front of you your clothes still on the beach;
And right there in the middle, the current where you drown,
The circles of our lives, in silent whirlpools, pull you down.
Somewhere in the future is the you you long to flee,
And somewhere in the past there lurks the you you long to be;
And right here in the present, a merging of the two,
The circles of our lives, in changing shapes of who is you.
Somewhere after sunrise is the swirling black of night,
Somewhere after dusk the wash of gentle morning light;
And caught between the two, the glow of ever-changing themes,
The circles of our lives, which thwart our fondest hopes and
dreams.
(Contents)
THE 60s ARE GONE - LONG LIVE THE 70s
(Music: Robin Hill)
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(No
lyric)
(Contents)
IN YOUR OWN WAY
(Words and music: Robin Hill)
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Pain
that you’ve been through,
Courage you’ve found,
Spirit and purpose,
Rich and profound;
Setbacks defeated,
Vanquished away,
Triumphs completed
In your own way.
There’s a murmur in the air,
The softest breath of something stirring there.
There are changes coming through,
Bringing out the best of what you do.
Hardships you’ve fought with,
Obstacles cast,
Richness of vision,
Subtle and vast,
Reason confounded,
Cause swept away,
Insight compounded
In your own way.
(Contents)
MAYBE, JUST MAYBE
(Words and Music: Robin Hill)
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Some
days, at evening,
She’ll settle here alone,
Turn down the telly
And quietly disconnect the phone;
Where, silent, and pensive,
Her mind can wander free,
Lost a while, absorbed in all
The many things that used to be:
A half-caught breath of scandal
Still lingers in the air
And mouths a silent “maybe”
To those who care
The young loves that once were
Have all but slipped away,
And deeper loves with meanings
Will fade at times from day to day;
Yet woven in their patterns,
A rich but hidden seam
Of secret loves and yearnings,
All forged from things she dared to dream:
A half-glimpsed indiscretion
Still permeates the mask
And softly whispers “maybe”
For those who ask
A half-seen revelation
Still breaks the deep disguise,
And half-suggests “just maybe”
From silent eyes …
(Contents)
WHO YOU ARE
(Words and music: Robin Hill)
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When
your failings make you feel uptight,
It’ s who you are that makes it turn out right,
And who you are that means you sleep at night,
Restful in your bed;
When you’re gripped by all this fear and doubt,
It’s who you are that keeps it working out,
And who you are that brings the turnabout
To fortitude instead;
Be yourself,
Stay steadfast, strong and true;
And if you’re not sure what else to be,
Be you,
You don’t have to be brilliant,
You don’t have to be a star,
You shine already, just the way you are
Be yourself,
Keep courage shining through;
And whatever else you try to be,
Be you,
You don’t have to be perfect,
You don’t have to clear that bar,
You soar already, just the way you are
You don’t have to be wonderful,
You don’t need the big cigar,
You’re smoking now, just the way you are.
(Contents)
THE LAST OF THE TWILIGHT
(Words and music: Robin Hill)
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In
the last of the twilight,
As the day nears its end,
We’ll breathe in the quiet,
Watch the darkness descend,
Thoughtful and musing,
Holding the eye
On patterns that swirl
In what remains of the sky.
In the last of the twilight
Of all that has passed,
Our one time aspirations
Lie peaceful at last,
Lost behind shadows
Of half opaque shrouds,
Like patterns that drift
In what remains of the clouds.
In the last of the twilight,
At the end of the day,
Nothing to do now,
Nothing to say,
Arms softly reaching,
Where warm friendship thrives
In patterns that bathe
What remains of our lives.
(Contents)
SPIRIT OF THE AGE
(Words and music: Robin Hill)
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So
drop those yellow go-go boots,
Put on your platform heels,
Just seize the mood, and go with how it feels
Changes come and changes go,
A blinking of the eye,
Years go round in constant flow,
And life itself slips by
So goodnight Sergeant Pepper,
And good morning Major Tom,
The spirit of the age is moving on
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Maxi coats and maxi cars,
Late night parties, rock guitars,
Peace and love, and burning bras the rage
Lunar landings, jumbo jets,
Psychedelic discotheques,
Dancing with the spirit of the age
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So drop that purple mini skirt
An inch below the knee,
Up or down from there is where to be;
Fads and fashions change so fast,
And nothing’s here to stay,
Years just come and years go past
While life just slips away
So goodnight, Sergeant Pepper,
Good morning Major Tom,
The spirit of the age keeps marching on.
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So goodbye, Sergeant Pepper
Why hello, Elton John,
The spirit of the age moves ever on.
(Contents)