Song #51 Late on a Winter's Night

 

LATE ON A WINTER’S NIGHT

 

It’s late on a winter’s night

I’m playin’ alone at home

I wonder if I’ll ever play this song for you

I don’t know what it is that brought you into mind

I only know if you were here it’d be oh so fine

My thoughts again drift back

To that night long ago

I know we both lie awake at night

And wonder if we’ll know

 

Just what it would be like

If we gave ourselves away

Told your jealous man just we would have done

If we had not thought of him and let our passion run

We wouldn’t like awake at night and dream another end

 

You told me you were gonna cross the world

And join me over here

My body burned with excitement and fear

That’s exactly what I’d dreamed

It’s what I’d hoped you’d do

Without a word or letter somehow I always knew

But the birth of a baby kept you home

And the love of a country kept me home

 

So our love becomes a history

I wonder how many years I’ll think of you

Treasured memories of just that one night

The place was fine but the time was just not right

 

It’s late on a winter’s night

I’m playin’ alone at home

I wonder if I’ll ever play this song for you

Be your tambourine man baby

And play this song for you

 

© M Coghlan 1989

Commentary 

Written sitting on the floor in front of a fire back In Adelaide. Joti asleep, feeling alone, and mind drifting back to one beautiful night in Amsterdam.

 

Song #50 Man on Fire

 

MAN ON FIRE

(Listen HERE) 

Look over yonder there’s a man on fire

Life to death just a fusin’ wire

He figures he can’t get much higher

 

Saw a photo once of a man on the street

Alight with flame from his head to his feet

Gone to his end as a man on fire

 

He always knew it was a long time comin’

Lovely ladies always send him runnin’

It’s best he goes this man on fire

 

Burnin’ up from this unloved feelin’

His heart’s aglow; his mind’s a-reelin’

He’s gonna stop the eventual explosion

And end it all as a man on fire

 

Beautiful woman but he can’t reach her

His feelings smoulder; won’t someone teach her

How to love this man on fire

How to save this man in fire

 

See the smoke from across the valley

Soldiers slinkin’ down a broken alley

His number’s up, he ain’t keepin’ tally – anymore

No more

He figures he can’t get much higher

Goin’ to his end as a man on fire

Fire On Fire On Fire Fire

 

(© Michael Coghlan 1989)

Song #49 Across the Mekong

ACROSS THE MEKONG (listen in mp3)

In a world meant for others
I still find it hard to see
My way to the top
When there’s nothing there for me that I can see

I come from far away
But I’m forced to live here
Where everybody talks different
And not many care for me that I can see

I rowed across the Mekong
I spent months upon my feet
With my child in tow behind me
His mother’s gone to meet a different end

I don’t know whether to tell him
That everything will work out fine
He’s learnt the ways of this land
Where the sun always shines – but not for me

I’ve been 7 years a stranger
But there’s still no place for me
And though I still keep tryin’
I’m unemployed and dyin’ but I’m free

So I’ll leave it to my children
To reap the rich reward
From this land I’m forced to die in
Desolate and bored – where is she?

Did you get across the Mekong
And think of us lifelong
This dream we had to find you
Has long since gone away
But we’re free

(Copyright M. Coghlan 1989)

Commentary

I had begun working as an ESL (English as a Second Language) teacher and was in daily contact with people who had come to Australia from all sides of the planet. This song is based on the true story of a Cambodian man who escaped from the Khmer Rouge with his son but lost contact with his wife along the way and found himself alone as a single father here in Australia.

Songwriting

 

Rob Childs, SCALA Founder

After hearing my song Adelaide Born a dear friend suggested that I might write a series of songs in tribute to my home city of Adelaide. Aside from the fact that a few local songwriters (Keith Preston and his merry band, and Fergus Maximus and Dr D) have already done a fine job of this, it’s not really a thing I’m likely to do.  I was asked earlier this year why I write songs and my reply was almost glib but it’s the truth. I just have to. It’s just something I’ve always done. It fulfills a need somehow and it wasn’t ever a conscious decision. It just happened – around age 18 and has continued on and off ever since. What I find fascinating is that there are many fine musicians, some of them outstanding, who have never had the slightest inclination to write their own music. They are quite happy excelling in their craft while playing the music of others.

In a recent songwriting competition people were invited to write a song about South Australia. As I have done more travelling round my home state in this COVID world than in the previous 60 years I thought now would be a good time to put that experience into song. But I missed the deadline. The song will get written – I have begun – but it will take weeks. Perhaps months. There are one or two songs I have written very quickly but the norm for me is that they come into being slowly over an undefined timeframe. It’s a mood thing. Call it waiting for the creative urge if you like, but that’s how new songs happen for me. They come in dribs and drabs over time with no timetable; get reworked and changed as they grow, and at some point are ‘finished.’ (In fact many songs are never finished. It is always illuminating to go back and see the original lyrics of a song, or hear the original tune and realise how much it has changed over the years. They tend to have their own organic life where they keep evolving. ) However, I guess if I forced myself to, or if it were important enough to meet a deadline and finish a song by a certain date, I may be able to, but it's clearly not my preferred way of operating.

Songwriting for me is more of an organic process that occurs when the spirit is moved, or when I feel have something to say. In that sense it plays something of a cathartic role – the expression of thoughts and feelings that you need to get out. In the same way that a writer or painter may use their craft to clarify thoughts, exorcise demons, or simply think things through. These kinds of experiences don’t typically run to a timeframe. They happen when they need to. Or when one is moved, inspired, or provoked!

Song #48 Time Alone

TIME ALONE

 

It’s clear to me you’ll never understand

I never ever wanna be your man

I just like my time alone too much

 

Maybe that’s why they went away

Those two ladies who didn’t stay

Because I like my time alone too much

 

So will I reach old age alone?

Still dreaming of that perfect one

Who just likes her time alone too much

 

I want someone who don’t want me

Who wants to love me as I be

Me who likes his time alone too much

 

I’m not sayin’ that you can’t come

I just wanna be free to run

And leave you free to be alone too much

(M. Coghlan 1989)

Commentary

Alone again and at age 35 slowly working out who I am! This song had a very short life. I think there was a short time when I needed to say this out loud. It's complicated but there's a happy ending - I found her :)

Song #47 Adelaide Born

 

ADELAIDE BORN (listen)

 

  Adelaide born, 1954
  Born in the suburbs
  And what the hell for?
  To live for my fellow man,
  Or to grow grey, old and wise?
 

  Adelaide born, 1954
  No longer wonder
  What I'm here for
  'Cos six years ago
  I had my eyes opened by a child.
 

  My dad was a cop
  Out on the west coast
  So I got to travel
  Younger than most
  And that is a habit I find hard to break
  To this day
 

  I spent my youth
  In a fishing town
  In a place called Lincoln
  Where the tuna come in, and people win medals
  And cash in on big crops
  Of herb
 

  Now when people ask
  Why do you stay?
  Go out and see some other way
  Where people live on the edge,
  And cash in on seamier lives.
 

  But I've been gone
  For many a long stretch,
  And I'm back again
  To enjoy the balm
  Of this lovely piece of land
  Out on the plains by the sea
 

  And there are many right here
  Who've been away
  And have felt the load
  Of a harder road
  Where cities are bigger,
  And skies are much bleaker
  And so what?
 

  I'm Adelaide born, 1954
  And I'll be gone -
  There's nothing more sure.
  I don't want to hide away.
  I want to know if my dream's real.
  I don't want to hide away.
  I want to know if my dream's real.

(Copyright Michael Coghlan, 1989)

Commentary

I had grown up singing countless songs about American towns and cities. I have always envied American songwriters for singing about their own places and this was my first attempt to do something similar for my own hometown :)

This song earned another mention on this blog back in May. For a touch of video of a young man.

Song #46 Southern Man; Northern Lady

 

SOUTHERN MAN; NORTHERN LADY

 

I am a southern man

You’re a northern lady

Will we ever agree?

Am I too old for you?

Are you too young for me?

I’m lookin’ at your dream babe

Can you share it with me?

Do you know my dreams?

Will you ever share them with me?

Or is it too far gone?

 

We’re rising the crest of a wave

 

I am a southern man

You’re a northern lady

We could never agree

I was too old for you

You were too young for me

I was starin’ at your dreams babe

You wouldn’t share them with me

You never knew my dreams

You couldn’t share them with me

It was too far gone

We’re riding the crest of a wave

 

(M Coghlan 1989)

Commentary

Exploring what went wrong - age, culture, interests. Lots of fault lines that we couldn't fix. Sang it for a while but have completely forgotten how it went. Don't think it was much good anyway :)