Song #29 Song for Margot

Sometime in 1982 Jeff and I began playing with Margot in our Last Wave trio. Margot played congas and sang. I had written an instrumental tune that we were experimenting with and Margot asked if she could have a go at writing some lyrics to it. That was fine with me, but we were very clear that we didn’t want it to be religious. (Margot was an avid Christian.) Some time later we were playing an outdoor gig in an Adelaide park on Easter Sunday when Margot suggests we do the song. Jeff and I were expecting to play it as an instrumental but Margot started singing – about Easter Sunday and the risen Christ!!!! We were stunned. I guessed we finished the song and at the end of the gig we agreed that we should go our separate ways. I went away and wrote the following lyrics to tell the story of what happened that day and it became one of my better and favourite songs. And it still is. Written in an upbeat English folk song style.

Margot – if you’re out there somewhere – thank you. And if you ever read this I hope there are no hard feelings.

 

SONG FOR MARGOT

I once wrote a song and it went like this

I gave it to a friend to write some words to

But she was a woman of God you see

She couldn’t find the words that suited me

She sang about God and she sang about a day

She sang about the love that the Christians say

Will save the whole world when the sky comes down

But I thought I could do it on my own

So we sang without words

We sang to the sky

We sang to the sun that shone in my eye

We sang to the people in the park that day

We sang the same tune in our different ways

 

She had long blond hair and she played on her drum

She played with the spirit of a life that’s done

With love and care for the people she sees

But she was blind to the truth that guided me

She couldn’t believe that the life we lived

Could be empty of the way she thought should work

So we sang without words, we sang the same tune

In different keys of the life we play

At the end of the song

We knew it was time

For the parting of the ways that we each must find

We sang without words

We sang to the sky

We sang to the people that happened by

Because of a tune that I wrote one day

It’s yours now friend if you’d like to play

 

(Copyright Michael Coghlan 1982)

 

Song #19 The Last Wave

 

THE LAST WAVE

 

Give me some green fields

Some green fields of home

Green fields of anywhere

The seven hills of Rome

The city that took me stronger than storm

Where I refound my saviour

But I was love lost and worn

 

We’re comin’ in on the last wave

We’re comin’ in on the last wave

 

Besuited and clean cut

They stand at my door

Charmed by a light

As bright as the dawn

With charming ideas naïve in extreme

Fairies in the garden

Are not what they seem

 

They’re comin’ in on the last wave

We’re comin’ in on the last wave

 

Mother Earth quakes at the sound of our roar

But battles on bravely

If you open the door

So just let her in as Rome continues to burn

With the oil of Mohammed’s men

It’s once again their turn

 

They’re comin’ in on the last wave

Are we comin’ in on the last wave?

We’re comin’ in on the last wave

 

There’s a man with his finger

On the nuclear button

We’ve lost it, we’ve sold out

We’re a race of gluttons

 

They’re comin’ in on the last wave

Are we comin’ in on the last wave?

We’re comin’ in on the last wave

 

Copyright Michael Coghlan 1980

Commentary

My end of the world moment. (It was the eighties!) Sprinkled with references to religion (Rome, Mormons, Mohammed) and a long tale that needs to be told one day in another format.

I used to really enjoy playing this song in a duo with Jeff Witt. I think we actually called ourselves The Last Wave for a while. Quite anthemic but its time has passed.