En Route to Bali 1973 - Train Across Java

 

CC image courtesy Nikita Gavrilovs 

The train trip across Java from Jakarta to Surabaya   was incredibly hot and crowded with people. Even   though we all had seats people sat on the armrests,   stood in the aisles, sat or laid down in the aisles or   even somehow managed to lie up in the baggage   racks. There were people everywhere. Thankfully all   the train windows were left open so at least the flow   of air against your perspiring skin offered some   semblance of cooling.

We'd been warned before we started the journey that we wouldn't be able to buy any of the cold drinks that were served on route because they were probably not hygienic. We were to drink just hot tea or coffee or bottled soft drinks like Coca Cola which were never cold. However, at regular intervals people who made a living from selling food and drink on the train would come through the carriages with these trays of beautifully coloured cold drinks that had ice cubes in them and were clearly deliciously cold. Local passengers snapped up these drinks - they were dirt cheap – and guzzled them down while we just sort of sat there drooling with envy for the first several hours of the journey and stayed with the coffee, tea and Coca Cola routine. As the hours went by this became harder and harder and at one point one of our group decided they couldn't take it anymore. These drinks looked so inviting! Suddenly as one of these vendors with these enticing looking drinks came by he just blurted out ‘I'll have one of those’,  took it, drank it and we all watched in anticipation to see whether he would get sick on the spot or 5 minutes later but after a certain amount of time passed he still seemed to be fine so from then on we all helped ourselves to these drinks and no one got sick. Not on the train at least.

It was a 24 hour journey so we had to endure at least one night on the train. It was around Christmas time and in those days I always carried my guitar with me.  I don't know how it came about. I guess I must have played a few songs.  I don't remember whether it was my idea or whether someone asked me to play my guitar but late at night as the train was going clickety clack clickety clack through the warm tropical night across Java I played Silent Night.  It was one of the more remarkable things that had ever happened to me. Silent Night is one of those songs that everybody knows it seems almost everywhere and even if they don't the melody is so poignant and engaging and beautiful that it stops everything and it did indeed stop everything on the train that night.  For a few minutes as I was playing and singing Silent Night I was aware that 50 - 80 people or more were dead silent and were just listening to me singing and playing. Nineteen year old Michael on a train in Java singing Silent Night in the middle of a tropical night! Those who knew the melody or the words joined in.  It was a really special moment.

There is another indelible memory of this train journey across Java. As all the Indonesian people often walked up and down the train so we took to doing the same thing. It would help pass the time, stretch your legs, and you’d get some fresh air because the area between the carriages was not covered. It was just a very basic coupling joining one carriage to the next. There was a metal plate you could walk on with a couple of flimsy hose handles that would be considered unsafe and completely forbidden in Australia.  But in Indonesia back then it was allowed. It was nice and breezy there and a lot of people gathered at these intersections between the carriages.  The end of each carriage also had a ladder that allowed you to climb up on the roof and invariably there were people on those ladders between the carriages and clearly there were people going up onto the roof. Eventually I got my turn to climb up one of these ladders and to my amazement the carriage that I was riding on had about 20 people up there sitting, talking, some walking, some lying … most of the carriages had several people up there so not only were people in the aisles and on the seats and in the baggage racks they were on the roof as well! I stayed up there for a while and really enjoyed it. However some time later there was a bridge in the distance. Clearly it made sense to get off the roof while the train goes under the bridge and most people did. They climbed down from the roof. As I was climbing down the ladder between the carriages I decided to stay there and keep my head just above the roof level of the carriage to see what it was like as the train whooshed under the bridge.  There was a little boy - I'm guessing about 8 - 10 years old - who hadn't moved and was still sitting quite erect and cross legged on the top of the train and I was concerned because the bridge was coming closer and this little boy hadn't moved and I was trying to get the attention of other people to tell them the bridge was coming and that there was a boy still up there on the roof. They were clearly not worried and told me not to fuss.  As the train passed underneath the bridge I kept an eye above the level of the carriage to watch what this boy was doing - actually I don't think I did. I looked away right at the last minute. But without flinching he just sat there as the train whizzed under the bridge cool as a cucumber. It didn't decapitate him! In fact he was completely unhurt and the people around me laughed because they trusted that this boy knew what he was doing. One of them actually pointed to him and said “been before.” The boy was quite familiar with the train ride and the height of the bridge. He was just enjoying a game of chicken with the bridge. I'll never forget it

En Route to Bali 1973 - Singapore/Jakarta

 

In 1973 Singapore didn’t allow people with long hair to enter. So my brother Damien and I were ceremoniously sheared among friends in Perth before our departure on an A.U.S. flight. AUS stood for Australian Union of Students and everyone on board was a student enjoying cheap student fares so you can imagine the party like atmosphere .

I passed the haircut inspection after having to turn a full 360 degrees twice to allow the customs officer to closely inspect my hair, but lingered to see how one of the more senior passengers (he was probably all of 30) with very long hair would get through. He had tucked all his hair up under a hat. He was asked to remove his hat and at that point he immediately started demanding in a very loud voice that he would like to speak to someone from the Australian embassy. He just kept repeating this over and over and eventually he was allowed to enter Singapore with no haircut!

This was my first visit to Asia. I was 19. Singapore had not yet gone through its economic boom time and the streets between Changi airport and the city were lined with poverty. People dressed in rags living by the side of the road; rickety market stalls lined the route, noisy dirty traffic flew past without any apparent order. It’s that assault on the senses that many Asian nations offer first time visitors that nothing can prepare you for. I remember staring open mouthed at the chaos unfolding by the side of the road as we made our way to the hotel.

That aside, the party atmosphere continued on at the student hotel most of us were booked in to. We roamed between various rooms where the alcohol and marijuana was flowing. One of the rooms belonged to the senior hippy guy who had bluffed his way through customs and who was now sitting on his bed naked and cross-legged rolling joints like an Indian holy man. There was a sudden moment of panic when we get a call to one of the rooms that the authorities were coming up to investigate. People scattered back to their own rooms and all the marijuana was quickly flushed down toilets, and windows opened to allow the smoke out.  Smoking and possession of marijuana in Singapore in those days was even more serious than having long hair! It turned out to be a prank - one of the students had just decided to freak everyone out with the fake phone call. It worked. It killed the mood completely.

Damien and I were planning to head to Bali in Indonesia. This involved flying to Jakarta to catch the train through Java and then a ferry to Bali. The flight to Jakarta was not a student flight. I was seated next to a seasoned traveller who had been to Jakarta many times and wasn’t impressed that his work had brought him back there. He called it a hell hole and said that if I thought Singapore was bad I hadn’t seen anything yet. How right he was. There are moments in your travelling life that you never forget. My first steps outside Jakarta airport was one such moment. It was absolute mayhem. A mass of people and traffic and noise in a chaos impossible to comprehend. As we stood trying to work out how to get a bemo (taxi) I noticed a man lying in the gutter – barely clothed and quite still. He could easily have been dead. And the traffic flooded past just inches from his head. No one appeared to notice. Or care. The opening lyrics to a Neil Young song played in my head: “old man lying by the side of the road…. don’t let it bring you down…. it’s only castles burning….”

By the time we reached our accommodation for the night all the women in the bemo were crying at what we’d seen. They guys I guess were crying on the inside. I know I was. Jakarta was extreme culture shock. I think we spent a couple of days there. It’s all a bit of a blur. It taught me so much in such a short time. I have never felt the desire to return.

Our next adventure was the train across Java en route to the island paradise of Bali.

Song #74 Happy Online

(Listen to a very raw version)

People say that I've got grey hair
I must say that I don’t care
Everyone strugglin’ to go on line
You might be a friend of mine

Tapping keys there across the world
Perhaps a lost and lonely girl
Who turns to the web to find her heart
With someone who’ll be apart
Far away

Everyone wants their own home page
Aiming to be the next web sage
I tried to find you but your site was down
You must have been out of town

Planning dreams to take me away
It’s time to go I just can’t stay
Email my friends to say goodbye
It’s time to go off line
I’m goin’ away

Then it happened - life fell apart
My friend dear life lost its spark
No urls ; no send, no reply
Just tropical heat and a whole lotta rain
In my eyes
Something had died
Someone has died

Gee it’s good to be back on line
Where real life can’t touch me and I feel fine
Say hi to my friends who have no face
They got no pain and they got no place

They can’t see that I got grey hair
And that’s why I say that I don’t care
They can’t see the tears in my eyes
I could be laughing and I could be wise
And I’m far away
Happy on line
It’s email time
Happy on line

(I don't mind 404. I don't mind server down. I'm happy online.)

(Copyright Michael Coghlan 1997)

Commentary: A song about life online and how much I enjoyed it. There is a kind of serious but flippant aspect to the first part of the song before it goes into a darker place. Flags the realisation that you can also go online to escape the hardships of the real world. As you can see this was written long before the advent of social media.

Song #73 All the Very Best

 

ALL THE VERY BEST

 (LISTEN)

Sing a song tell a joke

Close your eyes to the world

Throw your head back and sing

You spread your joy and laughter

It’s all part of your master plan

 

You play the fool drink a toast

Tell tales as a clown

Shut your eyes while your melody soars

You preach a message of peace through

 Miners, beggars, and whores

 

CHORUS

Yours is a voice from heaven

Sent to remind us that someone somewhere

Needs you

 

You bridge the gap

‘Tween now and the past

And share it with all your friends

To teach us all that singing our stories

Should never end

 

Such power in your voice

With the beauty of tune

Interspersed with a wicked grin

You left me waiting’ hopin’

That you’ll soon be back again

 

CHORUS

 

You roamed the world

Singing your songs

To the lucky and fortunate few

Who knew what to say

If we were asked ‘Vin who?’

 

It’s hard to accept

Your soul’s now silent

And that voice will soar no more

All the very best

Now you’re at rest

You left us wanting more

 

CHORUS

Copyright M Coghlan 2018

More on Vin Garbutt 

  

The Bad News Tsunami

 

Most of the postings on this blog of late are from the past. Lest I go drifting totally off into nostalgia it may be a good idea to write something about the present. Trouble is, the present has this giant dark cloud hanging over every aspect of existence. And that cloud of course is COVID.
We are besieged by a tsunami of bad news. "All media work us over completely. They are so pervasive in their personal, political, economic, aesthetic, psychological, moral, ethical and social consequences, they leave no part of us untouched, unaffected, unaltered.”
Like the young person referred to in the article above I am  “agonisingly well-informed” – a perfect phrase to describe ... people who have “no means of remedying the situation, like the captain of a sinking ship who knows exactly where the hole is in the hull but has no way of plugging it."
The relentless doom detailed in all media outlets over the last two years is crippling me. It’s not just COVID. It was also the Trump phenomenon and all it encompasses, the tormenting of refugees in off-shore detention centres, the assault on democracy from within its own boundaries, the reluctance to tackle climate change, species extinction … I could go on and list another dozen bleak issues about which I am agonisingly self-informed and at the same time feel helpless to remedy. 
Last week I took a few days away and journeyed around Western Victoria visiting a number of small towns with populations of less than a thousand people. I turned off all media and just drove, walked, took photographs and listened to music. It worked a treat. I felt better immediately. I need to distance myself from media more and more. I feel the damage its doing to my soul. I no longer feel light about life. Right now I don’t want to know about what’s going on beyond my bubble. I don’t want to know about case numbers, how many died, how many children got sick this week, the effects of long COVID.  It has gone past been interesting. It has gone past the point where I feel I should be informed. Being informed is simply debilitating.

My First Time Out of the Country

 I've been reading a book about someone else's travels and it prompted me to write about my first ever journey overseas - to New Zealand. It was 1972 and I was 18 years old.

 Leaving your homeland for the first time is exciting. I remember craning my neck backwards while watching the NSW coast recede into the distance through the window of the plane. The metaphorical umbilical cord had been cut and I was off to another land. Not too far mind – just ‘across the ditch’ to that other down under nation – New Zealand. I travelled with my friend Tony and as he had New Zealand cousins we went directly to their place in Hamilton and used that as home base for the next few weeks.

It’s interesting to look back now and note that we never for one minute contemplated any other mode of travel around NZ other than hitchhiking. We set off south together and reached Wellington in the early morn. Early enough to ‘buy’ some milk from people’s verandas in houses where they still slept. We were hungry and thirsty and no shops were open so we thought it was reasonable to help ourselves to milk from people’s verandas and leave some change to cover the cost of our theft! We clearly had a sense of what was the morally correct thing to do!

We agreed that if someone ever stopped to give us a ride but could only fit one of us in the car we would split up and meet at the next agreed destination. For the most part this worked well. But on one occasion in the South Island it left me stranded at Kaikoura. We had probably agreed to meet further down the coast at Christchurch but it got dark and I decided the public toilet at the Kaikoura train station was cosy enough and spent the night there. I’ve had hundreds of rides while hitchhiking over the years and most of them have drifted away into the past with no trace of recognition. I don’t know whether it was the fact that my first ride next morning rescued me from the toilet, or whether it was the fact that he was a priest, but a priest he was and I squeezed into his little Volkswagen for the next slow leg to Christchurch.

Our accommodation all over New Zealand was in youth hostels. It was great way to meet fellow travellers from all over, and they were cheap. You shared bunk bed style accommodation with many others, but for this privilege you had chore(s) to do each morning after breakfast. This might be cleaning the dormitories, toilets, kitchens, or sweeping up outside. It took about half an hour and there was no skipping it.

I dragged my guitar everywhere with me back then so I often got involved in sing-a-long music sessions at night. One night in Te Anau this American guy was joining in the singing but was really missing playing the guitar. He asked me if he could restring my left-handed guitar and play a few songs. I agreed and was glad I did. He was a great guitar player and everybody loved it. He happily put the strings back the other way when he was done – no mean feat. It takes a minimum of 20 minutes to do that so you really need to want to do it. That American guy was important for another reason that night. He was the first of many Americans I met while travelling who was really good at something – singing, writing, diving, skiing. Whatever it might be they had obviously dedicated a lot of time getting good at it, and were confident enough in themselves to demonstrate it or talk about it. It was in marked contrast to the Australian way where we tend to downplay our talents and prefer to blend into the crowd and not set ourselves apart as anything special – a cultural consequence of the Tall Poppy Syndrome perhaps. I thought the American way was more interesting, and more productive.

After we had been travelling for a while and had stayed in several hostels it was lovely one night – I think it was in Picton – to be recognised by one of the fellow guests. ‘You’re that Australian guy I’ve been hearing about who plays left-handed guitar and has been singing at lots of other hostels around New Zealand’ this woman said. ‘And people say you’re really good!’ Obviously there was more music and singing that night!

Somewhere in the South Island Tony and I split up again. I was standing on the edge of some town again and this small car stopped. The car was jam packed full of stuff. This woman was moving house and had everything she owned on board – including her cat! She said I could get in if I could fit me, my pack and guitar in somehow. She was quite happy for me to rearrange her stuff as needed. So I did -  got me and my stuff packed in and we set off. She really just wanted company, someone to talk to. It was an important point to understand when hitchhiking. Not everyone stopped just to help you out – though many did just that. Many picked you up because they wanted someone to talk to, help pass the time, keep them awake, and even occasionally the chance to take a break from driving.  

Our final hitchhiking stint in NZ was fantastic for me, but not so for Tony. Leaving Queenstown for our return journey to Hamilton a car pulled up and said they could take one of us. As it was Tony’s turn to take the first ride that came along he hopped in and I continued hitching. Not long after a Canadian couple who also only had room for one picked me up. A short while later we passed Tony by the side of the road – his ride had been a short one. My ride with the Canadian couple lasted for several days – up into the glacier country, across on the ferry back to the North Island, and eventually all the way back to Hamilton. Tony arrived back in Hamilton a day or so after me telling of miserably short rides, long waits, and an incredibly rough ferry crossing where he had spent much of the time vomiting. Life just isn’t fair sometimes!

Song #72 Don't Change Your Mind

 There was a long stretch in the 90s where I wrote very few songs, and I've just guessed the dates for many songs. But I know this one was written just before the overthrow of Saddam Hussein in 2003 - so perhaps 2002.

DON’T CHANGE YOUR MIND

 

One day we’ll all be gone

Some day there’ll be a me-less dawn

Do you wonder – what will remain?

Of that crazy guy from down the road?

 

Who for 10 years was always there

Smoking, gutter bound

A child-man in his own time

Already a statue in my mind

 

Or the two guys with hip long hair

As twins they walk, heading somewhere

Each day the same routine

Who will remember them when they’re gone?

 

There’s a battle for terror in every Western land

Coalition of the willing looking for their man

Guns in central Asia pointed at the man

Who detonates bombs with a wave of his hand

 

Meanwhile down on the sand

Adelaide cruises on

Sunsets end our days

I come home and find you there

 

Whatever things may come

Home means peace with you

Safe harbour for another day

I hope you don’t wake and change your mind

 

Bombs explode while Baghdad boils

Some still say it’s a battle for oil

Papers freak us out; mayhem all around

Terror Australis – where are you bound?

 

One day we’ll all be gone

Please hold me and keep me near

In our safe harbour

Please don’t wake and change your mind

 

I hope you don’t wake and change

I hope you don’t wake and change

I hope you don’t wake and change  

Your mind

 

(M Coghlan circa 2000)

Commentary: written around the time the Coalition of the Willing (US, UK, Australia) believed Iraq was manufacturing weapons of mass destruction and there was much chest-thumping and war mongering among Western allies. Clearly too I'm beginning to contemplate mortality. It's also a love song;  a song of thanks to Elizabeth.

 

 

Song #71 New Times

NEW TIMES

(Listen)

CHORUS

Well my son’s away – our thoughts and prayers go with you
Travel far and safe – our love goes always with you

As you follow your dreams – remember those at home go with you
Though you’re far away we travel in silence with you
Hoping you’ll find what you’re seeking

There’ll be brand new faces – who will want to know you
Brand new places and some will no doubt test you
But I know you’ll find your way through

CHORUS

I have watched you change – from baby to grown man
I love who you’ve become – a man who knows that children
Can teach us lots of life’s lessons

And no matter how long – you roam the world afar
There are people at home – who you can always turn to
If it all seems too hard

CHORUS

BRIDGE

I wandered abroad to discover new seas
We took you away from this land that you now leave
So I well understand what now takes you away
And wonder alone what your new world will bring
And if this land.....will be home again

CHORUS

(Copyright M Coghlan 2012)

Commentary: a goodbye song I wrote for my son who had just headed off to live in Europe.

The Webheads Story

 

In 1997 I came across a website called English for Internet (EFI). It offered ESL and EFL students free web-based English lessons. It was run by David Winet out of his home in Berkeley (California) and he was looking for teachers willing to volunteer their time to teach an ever-increasing number of students who wanted to learn English this way. I knew almost nothing about how to teach online but I jumped in the deep end and with David’s help and endless patience I started my own sessions. 

As well as asynchronous web-based exercises we met weekly on Sundays in a virtual classroom called The Palace. There was another teacher who ran classes at The Palace just before my session - Vance Stevens and he was based in the UAE. 

Many students just stayed online at the end of Vance’s class and joined mine. Over time the two classes just blurred into each other and it became apparent that what students really wanted to was meet together online and practice their English. This arrangement continued for some years. We were joined by another teacher from Cologne in Germany, Margaret Ann Doty. But the majority of participants were bonafide students from all over the planet – Taiwan, Brazil, China, Australia, the US, Argentina. We called ourselves The Webheads.

In the early 2000s Vance decided to expand the group and try and recruit more practising teachers and use the growing community as a professional development vehicle for language teachers worldwide. It was an enormous success and became known as Webheads in Action and evolved into a fully-fledged community of practice with active members in multiple countries.

Many of us were involved in presenting at conferences about online education and it was quite normal for many of us to call on other webheads to help deliver what Jonathan Finkelstein dubbed multiple venue presentations. And slowly too as webheads began to travel many online connections were cemented by face to face meetings. Some of these meetings even extended to family members. My son met my dear webhead friend and colleague Teresa in Portugal. This frenzy of collaborative online teaching and learning, supplemented by regular meetings face to face, was a massively productive and enjoyable part of my personal and professional life up until around 2014. And throughout this time we continued our Sunday online meetings at noon GMT!

When I retired from full time work I deliberately scaled back much of my online activity but still today I meet a small group of webheads online every fortnight, and know that when I go travelling again there are webheads around the planet who will welcome me to their lands.

So perhaps the song below now makes a bit more sense. Being part of the Webhead community had a profound impact on my life, and I will forever be eternally indebted to Vance Stevens for his indefatigable efforts in making sure the community stays alive. And to Teresa, Rita, Ying Lan, Felix, Bee, Dafne, Chris, Jonathan, Eric, Aiden, John, Elizabeth, David, Nina, Carla, Jane, Buth, Tom, Peter, Graham, Thuan, Jennifer and so many others – thank you for enriching my life, and being friends across the waters.

24/7 – we’re online

It doesn’t really matter – whatever the time

Someone’s there to answer the call

Or maybe you’re lonely in the middle of the night

Someone’s there to answer your call

You’re going on a journey to a foreign land

Want to meet a friend there to show you around

There’ll be someone there to answer your call

 

Song #70 Webheads Theme

 

Michael doing the Webhead Salute

WEBHEADS THEME

 (Listen HERE)

CHORUS

Webheads – all over the world

Webheads – we’re all over the world

 

 

24/7 – we’re online

It doesn’t really matter – whatever the time

Someone’s there to answer the call

 

CHORUS

 

You want to know how to do it right

Or maybe you’re lonely in the middle of the night

Someone’s there to answer your call

 

CHORUS

 

You want to join your class up across the world

Or you want an expert to talk to them live

Someone will answer your call

 

CHORUS

 

You’re going on a journey to a foreign land

Want to meet a friend there to show you around

There’ll be someone there to answer your call

 

CHORUS

 

Learning together – sharing our views

Living together – sharing our news

Always someone there – on the same wavelength

 

CHORUS

COMMENTARY:  The Webheads changed my life. I can't believe I've come this far into this blog (about 20 years!) and not posted the story. The amazing story is inferred and referred to in many talks and presentations but it's time I documented my role in the Webhead story here. In the meantime co-Webhead founder Vance Stevens has done a sterling job of maintaining all webhead archives HERE.

Song #69 See You Later Reno

 

SEE YOU LATER RENO

 

He was sitting on a footpath in a town down south

Singing to passers-by for joy or some coin

“Man you’ve got a great voice”

Man you wrote some great songs

 

Target airconditioners and fights in the pub

Boring dancing girlfriends and friends who couldn’t swim

Man you wrote some weird songs

Man you made us laugh though

 

People still around who’d I’d rather not see

So full of themselves they’re not interested in me

See you later Reno

See you later Reno

 

We're friends in time and name but the time has gone

Once so close, now so far, we’ve all moved on

See you later Reno

See you later Reno

 

I journeyed there with an open heart

Enjoyed your sun

Sang up and down your coasts and malls

You enjoyed our song

 

So to everyone I’ve ever known

To those who’ve gone, days of yore, and the places we’ve been

I bid you all farewell now

So say goodbye to Reno

Say goodbye to Reno

Say goodbye

(See you later Baterz)

(Thanks for the songs man)

(See ya’ next time buddy)

Let’s say goodbye

Say goodbye to Reno

Say goodbye to Reno

 

Copyright (M Coghlan 2002)

COMMENTARY: Inspired by the death of friend and Adelaide/Canberra artist – Baterz. I think I was trying to make this song a metaphor for all the things we lose in life and it got a little confused along the way. In any event Baterz was an exceptional character – warm, talented, funny, honest. And yes – the first words he ever said to me were ‘man you’ve got a great voice’ so it was love at first sight! (More on Baterz.)

 

 

Song #68 Home to My Song

 

HOME TO MY SONG

(Listen HERE)

It’s a long long way that we all have to go

And it’s harder than we had planned

I’d rather sit tight and take it all in

I don’t want to take a stand

 

CHORUS

When it feels hard, too hard to explain

When it feels hard, hard to feel safe

Safe from the world, away from it all

I go home to my song

 

I can sing my songs and play them loud

And pretend that I sound great

I’m the centre of the sound and the call of my soul

Likes to tempt the edge of fate

 

I can live in that dream where I play all day

And don’t have to go to work

Scream and shout to a catchy tune

About fear pain and hurt

 

CHORUS

 

What is going on when I pick up my guitar

And the tears roll down my face?

I gotta go to work and do my bit as a part of the human race

Check my eyes in the mirror as I drive to see if I look OK

Good morning everyone your teacher is here

There’s a lot to get through today

 

CHORUS

 

(© M Coghlan 1995)

COMMENTARY:  One day, feeling quite happy, I picked up my guitar near the front door just before I left to go to work. Minutes later tears were flowing freely as I sang whatever stream of conscious sounds came out. It happened more than once actually. I had to move my guitar away from the front door to prevent it happening. It wasn’t a sad thing – it was quite a beautiful feeling in fact. This song explores why this happens A clash of worlds at play methinks. Other world views bubbling to the surface unbidden.

Song #67 Life's A Wonderful and Melancholy Thing

 

(LISTEN HERE)

LIFE’S A WONDERFUL AND MELANCHOLY THING

LIFE’S A WONDERFUL AND MELANCHOLY THING

 

THERE’S A LONG LINE OF DOORS AND SO MANY ARE OPEN9VfE0U

WITH NO SIGNS OUT THE FRONT TO TELL YOU WHICH ONE TO GO THROUGH

WHICH ARE THE DOORS THAT’LL SEE YOUR WAY FORWARD

ARE THERE MORE LEADING UP THAN THERE ARE LEADING DOWN

 

YOU MEET THE MAN WITH THE ANSWERS AND HE SAYS GO THROUGH THERE SON

WITH A SPRING IN YOUR STEP IT ALL STARTS OUT FINE

BUT THE ROCKS START APPEARING AND FORCE YOU TO SLOW DOWN

YOU FORGET ALL THE ANSWERS AND HEAD BACK TO THE WINE

 

CHORUS

 

LIFE’S A WONDERFUL AND MELANCHOLY THING (X2)

THERE ARE TIMES IT MAKES YOU WANNA DANCE AND SING

AND THERE ARE TIMES WHEN YOU JUST CANNOT DO A THING

COS LIFE’S A WONDERFUL AND MELANCHOLY THING

 

TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE WALK DOWN THE SAME ROAD

ONE COMES HOME WITH A TEAR IN HIS EYE

WHILE THE OTHER FINDS LOVE AT THE END OF THE SAME ROAD

ALL DOORS LEAD TO THE END OF THE LINE

 

CHORUS
 

LIFE’S A WONDERFUL AND MELANCHOLY THING

LIFE’S A WONDERFUL AND MELANCHOLY THING

Song #66 Fear of Being Too Good

 

Karam Board

FEAR OF BEING TOO GOOD

(Listen)

 You've walked the paths of history
 And you've watched the rivers flow
 You've been away for far too long
 It doesn't matter where you go
 You've been to funerals dressed in white
 You've stood pale among the dark skin
 You've looked for patterns around the world
 That describe the common man
  So where's the sense in returning
  To those who do not know?
  That's true devotion
  Or was it fear of being alone
       fear of being alone
       fear of being alone?
 

 You've kept your cool in foreign lands
 When conversation turned to God
 You've managed a touch of sympathy
 For the rundown unkempt sods
 You've drunk from flagons in the park
 And you found it quite a lark
 When the old man turned and told you
 He would never take a plane
 To the destinations across the sea
 That you flew to with your pain
  And the spirit then was lurking
  Like a misfit in your brain
       a misfit in your brain
       a misfit in your brain.
 

 You've sat out on the beach at night
 And were asked about Jesus Christ
 You found that you enjoyed it
 Like the tropics it warmed your heart
 The night wind formed your words
 In a way that you found easy
 But the sunlight left you questioning
 Unsure of where you stood
  It was all too bright and daunting
  Or was it fear of being too good
       fear of being too good
       fear of being too good?
 

 You've walked the paths of history
 And you've watched the rivers flow
 You've been away for far too long
 It doesn't matter where you go
  Where's the sense in returning
  To those who drove you away?
  That takes dedication
  Or was it fear of being alone
       fear of being alone
       fear of being alone?
 
 

 (Copyright  Michael Coghlan 1994)

COMMENTARY: a song that details the struggle between wanting to be away, and wanting to be home; between the freedom to wander where you will and fear of being alone, between a path of giving to others and a life of satisfying the self; and the fear of delving too far into religion in case you never get out! It’s about travel; staying home, and the person you need to/want to/should be 😊

 

 

Song #65 Under the Sea at Night

 

UNDER THE SEA AT NIGHT

 

People will say you can’t behave that way

But you know you can because you did it last night

People will say you wouldn’t risk what you’ve got

But I know I would because I gambled the lot

 

Driven by a force that pulls you down

Under the sea at night as you slowly drown

 

Suddenly she turns and faces your fury with pain

There’s some dumb expression about pain meaning gain

 

Then you notice there’s a fire in her eyes

You push no further or you’ll forfeit the prize

 

Of waking up tomorrow when the cool wind blows

With the one you’ve always dreamed of in a love that glows

 

People might say you’d never hide like a kid

Under the blankets to forget what you did

I know I can because I did it that day

Till she came to me and told me all was OK

 

No need to fret or frown just get on with the day

I didn’t know she’d already been away

 

She’d been down to the ocean in the dark of the night

Had already left me to make everything alright

 

So we’d wake tomorrow when the cool wind blow

With the one you’ve always dreamed of in the afterglow

 

INSTRUMENTAL

 

People might say that your sea looks so calm

They have no idea what can lurk beneath the charm

You’re always so together so much in control

But they don’t know the fire that consumes a restless soul

 

Driven by a force that pulls you down

Under the sea at night as you slowly drown

 

And you’ll wake tomorrow when the cool wind blows

With the one you’ve always dreamed of in a love that grows

 

(Copyright M Coghlan 1994)

Commentary; Speed bumps appearing on the relationship road. Jealousies and neuroses boil over in an uncharacteristic explosion. Fears confronted and staired down by someone who was wise enough to act, depart, and return. I'll leave it there! Quite a powerful song. Was never recorded.... we'll see ;)