I grew up with his music. He was an excellent storyteller and an adequate musician. To the degree that he influenced me, he introduced me to the idea that a ballad could economically tell a story in just three to four minutes with humor and pathos. Rest in peace.
Here's a favorite:
He Went To Paris
He went to Paris looking for answersTo questions that bothered him soHe was impressive, young and aggressiveSaving the world on his ownBut the warm Summer breezesThe French wines and cheesesPut his ambition at bayAnd Summers and WintersScattered like splintersAnd four or five years slipped away
Then he went to England, played the pianoAnd married an actress named KimThey had a fine life, she was a good wifeAnd bore him a young son named JimAnd all of the answers and all of the questionsHe locked in his attic one day'Cause he liked the quiet clean country livingAnd twenty more years slipped away
Well the war took his baby, the bombs killed his ladyAnd left him with only one eyeHis body was battered, his world was shatteredAnd all he could do was just cryWhile the tears were falling, he was recallingThe answers he never foundSo he hopped on a freighter, skidded the oceanAnd left England without a sound
Now he lives in the islands, fishes the pilin'sAnd drinks his green label each dayHe's writing his memoirs and losing his hearingBut he don't care what most people sayThrough 86 years of perpetual motionIf he likes you he'll smile then he'll sayJimmy, some of it's magic, some of it's tragicBut I had a good life all the way
And he went to Paris looking for answersTo questions that bother him so
No comments:
Post a Comment