This is a very old song (early 1970s) I keep revisiting. Old in years, but perhaps not in terms of maturity. This time I went back to it because Ian Semple played a version on his radio show on Coast FM (thanks, Ian!) that I’d not only forgotten I’d cut, but also couldn’t find on my laptop. This version has a slightly trimmed version of the lengthy instrumental (much more recent) with which it starts, and a different take on the actual song. It’s essentially the same track that I used on the Ten Percent Blues album, only I didn’t use the instrumental for that album.
Unusually for me, the guitar is in open G (which I did use a lot more in those days, but mostly for slide). I think I originally wrote it on banjo, which might explain a lot. The instrumental might reappear on a poetry/music project.
You sing your songs, the stage is bare
There isn’t anyone out there
Sometimes it almost seems that way
And I run out of songs to play
Forget the muzak and the beer
The open mouths, the grudging cheers There isn’t any better way To freeload your life away
Back in 1969 I lost someone I thought was mine That’s the price I had to pay When I ran out of songs to play
Goodbye, old friend, I have to leave To prove to myself that I’m still free I’ll see you in a year or so And buy the round you say I owe
The long cigarettes, the cheap red wine The melodies you say are mine If you find somewhere to be I hope you’ll save a place for me