Where the Halling Valley River Lies, Carl Halling [urban books to read txt] 📗

can shake off the blues
Faith, there’s no time to lose

We can go for a cruise
Down the Thames
Or down the Ouse
Or just snooze under summer’s sun

Find a village green
Watch some cricket,
Take some tea, as you please
Summer’s made for fun

Get some sweet summer air
Feel the breeze in your hair
Forget that sad old affair
He’s not worth all the tears

Cast you cares on me
I can set you free
Don’t let me wait too long
Summer will soon be gone

No more winter time lows
Only joy now because
We can shake off the blues
Faith, there’s no time to lose

We can go for a cruise
Down the Thames
Or down the Ouse
Or just snooze under summer’s sun.

14. Stevie B and Me

Stevie, we were free,
Stevie, you and me,
On that golden day
Was it 68?
The decade’s last few days,
The whole wild world was crazed,
But where we were was peace
For you and me at least.

If I stop for a moment,
I dream groves and country paths,
Green’s “Albatross” is playing
In this our past,
Whole empires were falling,
The old ways were fading fast,
Things never last,
But you and I
Found pleasant peace at last.

We weren’t friends for long,
These things aren’t too strong,
We were far from home,
Together less alone,
We drifted far apart,
Hardened up our hearts,
We had so far to fall,
Four years took their toll.

We walked and talked
For many hours
Safe under Blue Berkshire Skies.

Stevie, we were free,
Like we’d never been,
On that halcyon day,
Stevie B and me.
The decade’s last few days,
The whole wild world was crazed,
But where we were was peace
For you and me at least.

15. The Ones We Love

Though we fight every day
I can say Honey,
I do love you
With a love,
A burning love
A tender love
A kind of love
That’s forever true

It seems that it’s the truth
Between man
And woman
And age and youth
It’s true that we do
Hurt most the one we love

So many times I’ve let you down
I’ve messed you ‘round
And I still do
I know it’s weird
It seems absurd,
But I never ever wanted to

You know it’s often said
And I’ve seen it
Many times
In all the books I’ve read
It’s true that we do
Hurt most the ones we love

You’ve got to forgive me, babe
Sometimes it’s hard
To control the things
I do and say
I’m just a weak and sinful man
Yes I am
Trying to do the best I can

It seems that it’s the truth
Between man
And woman
And age and youth
It’s true that we do
Hurt most the one we love.

16. Like all the Moonstruck Do

If I fell in love with you
I would like to
Make my dreams come true
You could fulfil all yours too
So come on angel
Just one look will do
I’ll lose my heart to you
Like all the moonstruck do

We could go all round the world
Just like other
Moonstruck girls and boys
So come on angel
Don’t be scared
We are only young once
Say the word
I’ll lose my heart to you
Like all the moonstruck do

Bali Frisco Rio or wherever
You may choose
The world’s our oyster, angel,
There’ll be no more bad news
We could escape tomorrow
I tell you we can’t lose
We will soon be
Saying bye bye to those blues

If I fell in love with you
I would like to
Make my dreams come true
You could fulfil all yours too
So come on angel
Just one look will do
I’ll lose my heart to you
Like all the moonstruck do.

17. I Let You Go

What was I thinking
I let you go
I wasn't drinking still
I let you go
Where was my head at to
Let you go
I can't accept that I just
Let you go

I wish I could make
Amends
So we could at least
Be friends
I have no real
Reason why
I let you say goodbye

Did I confuse you when
I let you go
Such a fool to have
Let you go
You were so precious still
I let you go
Worth more than jewels still
I let you go

I wish we could start again
I'd be quite a diff'rent man
I've learned quite a lot
Since then
I know how to keep a friend

We could meet up in the
Centre of town
And I'd explain my motivations
About how I came
To let you down
And all those other
Explications and complications

I'm not asking for
Romance
Just give me half
A chance
Cos’ I got a real
Good heart
So how 'bout
A brand new start?

What was I thinking
I let you go
I wasn't drinking still
I let you go
Where was my head at
To let you go
I can't accept
That I just let you go

18. Time Was I Was (A Wand’rin’ Star) (yes)

Time was I was a wandering star
With a restless quenchless soul
Time was I had an unquiet heart
And from dream to dream I'd roam

Well I thought I was a free bird
And I didn't have a worldly care
Till I found myself abandoned and
Alone I cried but you weren't there

Now all I really want is you is you is you

Time was I played the gadabout
Thought I did not need a home
Time was I thought I was so smart
I could do it all alone

Till it dawned on me that there would
Come a time when you would say: OK
If that's the way you want it, babe,
I'll leave you to go on your way

Now all I really want is you is you is you

Book Three – Seven Chapters from a Sad Sack Loser’s Life

Chapter One

Sometime in the early 21st Century, it occurred to David Cristiansen, and not for the first time, that he was a loser. In fact not just loser but a king-size loser, a loser among losers, a loser supreme.
The contemplation that he was the best at what he did afforded him some consolation at those times of the day when his status in life meant the most to him; such as in those last few hours before he turned in for the night.
Yet the fact remained he’d failed in almost every conceivable area of life. And so ended up living alone in an apartment adjacent to his parents’ suburban home at the advanced age of 55, unmarried and childless, and without fortune, profession or vehicle.
As to the areas in which he hoped to succeed since he was a teenager with the world at his delicate feet, he had precious little to show for his labours but for a few baubles of which he was unfeasibly proud. But in the end, they amounted to very little; and deep down inside he knew that all too well, despite the swaggering attitude he affected.
And it hurt him terribly to realise he wasn’t a genius after all, so much as a regular sad sack with delusions of grandeur; as actor, musician and writer.
“I’m not done yet”, he’d boast to himself, or to anyone else who might listen, and to look at him, you might think he had a point. For despite his age, he still possessed a remnant of what was once a truly remarkable physical beauty; as well as a magnetic charm that drew others to him irresistibly.
Yet, many would insist David was foolish to lament all he had lost in terms of opportunities for fame, status and glory and all the wondrous things that accompany these. For after all, these are things one cannot take with us when we quit this earth, and life is short, so terribly short that it is described in the Bible as a “vapour”.
And there were times his still handsome eyes failed to see this truth, as if they’d become clouded o’er by the tears he often shed at night for his wasted past, and for the pain he felt when he thought of all he had lost. While at others, it became manifestly clear to him, and he rejoiced as the most fortunate of men. Yet, it could have all been so different.
He'd been born at the tail end of the Goldhawk Road, a lengthy street within the limits of inner West London, and his first home, a little Victorian cottage in the long-demolished Bulmer Place in Notting Hill. And you’ll search in vain for it in any London map, although you’ll still be able to locate a Bulmer Mews tucked away some yards away from the main road of Notting Hill Gate.
His brother Dany was born two and a half years later, by which time his parents had been able to afford their own house in Bedford Park in what was then the London Borough of Acton.
During David’s boyhood it was still demographically mixed, yet well on the way to becoming completely gentrified.
Future Who front man Roger Daltry had relocated there from nearby Shepherds Bush when he was 11 years old in 1955 or '56.
And a few years later, he formed a group in the Skiffle style called The Detours, which would go on to shape-shift into The Who, whose furiously hedonistic music and philosophy would go on to make a permanent impression on the Western psyche; and help fuel the British Invasion of the American Pop charts.
David’s father Pat had been born Patrick Clancy Cristiansen in Rowella, Tasmania, and raised in Sydney as the son of a Danish father and English mother.
At around eight years old, he won a scholarship to the Sydney Conservatory of Music, soloing for the Sydney Symphony Orchestra on a single occasion shortly afterwards.
And soon after his father’s death on the eve of the second world war, he set off with his mother and two siblings for Denmark, his father having expressed a wish to be buried in his native land. And then on to London where he studied both at the Royal Academy of Music and the Guildhall School of Music and Drama.
He joined the London Philharmonic 0rchestra while still a teenager during the Blitz on London during which he served in the Sea Cadets as a signaller, seeing action as such on the hospital ships of the Thames River Emergency Service.
While David’s mother had entered the world as Angela Jean Watson in the city of Brandon, Manitoba on the 13th of November 1915. However, while still an infant she'd moved with her parents