Category: 1970s songs

My Blogging Absence and Puppy Love

WIAA: Alyson, like Nathan Jones, you’ve been gone too long. What’s happened?

ALYSON: I know WIAA, it’s been far too long and I have no legitimate excuse either. I never wanted to be one of those bloggers who was “no longer in the field” but I can see how it happens. Only another 7 months until my blog’s tenth birthday though, and I really want to make it to that date.

WIAA: You can do it Alyson, I have every faith in you.

ALYSON: Despite saying I have no legitimate excuse for my absence, I kind of do. DD has hijacked my blog’s title and set up one of her own – all because she has a new puppy in her life called, wait for it…, ALFIE!


Alfie by Cilla Black:


WIAA: Well, he certainly is a cute bundle but I’ll bet he’s keeping you on your toes.

ALYSON: He certainly is. We kept pointing out that it would be really difficult owning a dog when she and her other half work full-time, but of course that “minor” stumbling block was ignored, as I think she knew, come the hour, we would step in and help out with him. To be fair, DD does work from home a lot so it’s not been too full on yet, but we are roped in for puppy-sitting a few times a week. Mr WIAA is very fond of Alfie but I’m already totally smitten.

He likes slippers! Wait until the end to see his cute face.


So, what’s the obvious song to feature for someone like me who was aged 12 in 1972? Why that would be Donny Osmond’s massive No. 1 hit called Puppy Love. As regular visitors to this place might already suspect, I was a big fan of this boy from Utah who had a gorgeous smile and an awful lot of brothers. Although I’ve already shared around here the first album I ever bought with my own money (an Elvis one), I have never admitted to the second one. That would be because it was indeed a Donny Osmond one, Portrait Of Donny. It came with signed photos and I very naughtily told my friends I had written to Donny and he had sent them back to me. A lie to be sure, and I don’t think anyone believed me when they scrutinised the pictures, but hey, I was a pre-teen with a big crush who had a Donny transfer ironed onto her pillowcase and a pair of brushed denim flares with his name embroidered on the patch pocket (in chain stitch done by my own fair hand).

But of course it is no longer 1972 and I am no longer a pre-teen, and once their early ’70s heyday was over, it became really quite uncool to be a fan of any Osmond family member. What I thought would be interesting would be to see a clip of the song’s writer, Paul Anka, performing it in 1960. Not a song about a canine at all, but about teenage love, and how no-one understands it’s intensity – although we’ve all been there.


Paul Anka was a Canadian, who like Donny, was a bit of a teen idol. Unlike Donny he self-penned most of the songs he recorded and is famed for having written the English lyrics to the song My Way, Frank Sinatra’s signature song. Paul had a bit of a career resurgence in the 1970s and I do remember his song from 1974, (You’re) Having My Baby. My dad did a bit of a double-take when he heard me listening to that one, probably hoping it would be some time until I would be having anyone’s baby (it took 20 years actually!).

The last word should go to the real puppy though, Alfie. He came along just before St Valentine’s Day so of course he had to arrange a card for his new owner/mum. Very apt I think.


Thanks to my blog for prompting me to get blogging again.

Until next time…

Puppy Love Lyrics
(Song by Paul Anka)

And they called it puppy love
Oh, I guess they’ll never know
How a young heart really feels
And why I love her so

And they called it puppy love
Just because we’re, we’re 17
Tell them all it-, please, tell them, isn’t fair
To take away my only dream

I cry each night my tears for you
My tears are all in vain
I hope and I pray that may, maybe someday
You’ll be back (you’ll be back) in my arms (in my arms) once again
(You’ll be back in my arms once again)

Someone, help me, help me, help me, please
Is the answer up above?
How could I, oh, how could I tell them
This is not a puppy love? (This is not a puppy love)

Someone, help me, help me, help me, please
Is the answer up above?
How could I ever tell them
This is not a puppy love?
(This is not a puppy love)

Postscript:

As I’ve had a positive feedback to this one I shall cast my embarrassment aside and also share the clip of Donny singing his song, with his brothers doing a bit of backup singing. They all had their individual costume colour and Donny’s was purple. It therefore became the favourite colour of many a preteen girl around then!

A Mini-Christmas Ramble and Praise For Octogenarians

As is traditional around here, I had fully intended to write a Christmas post in the run-up to the big day but blow me down, our internet went on the blink at the start of the week. The good news is that an engineer came to fix the problem a few hours ago so we are now up and running again and catching up with things that should have been done a few days ago.

My festive fireplace

Last month I had said that reading hour was going to be replaced by writing hour for the foreseeable, and that worked well in November. December is a really busy month however so my reading and writing has suffered over the last few weeks. A lot of this is because of the social whirl that comes with volunteering. I’ve mentioned before that I now volunteer in a charity shop, but not just any charity shop, our local hospice is funded partly by all the good work done in the 15 shops scattered around the Highlands and I’m based at our HQ, the massive warehouse that could rival Amazon’s where the good people of Inverness come to donate things they no longer need. There is a large shop attached to the warehouse where I now work two days a week and this month I’ve also worked in the pop-up Christmas Bazaar set up in our local shopping mall. I love it and have made loads of new friends – ladies of a certain age to be sure, but ladies who all have a bit of a spark to them and know how to enjoy life. Last Friday we had the Warehouse Christmas Party, I also had a bit of a do at the actual hospice itself (a very welcoming and cheerful place) and next month we have a fancy meal out. It’s like being back in the workplace again with all the benefits that brings but without the office politics, and the pay check!

Some of the shop windows

But here we are at Christmas Eve and I haven’t yet shared a festive song – lord knows they’ve been played enough on the radio over the last month. I’m inclined to go for something by Paul McCartney as I was chuffed to see footage of him sharing the stage this week with his old mate Ringo Starr. It had been the last night of Paul’s tour so Ringo obliged by joining him on the drums. Considering they are now aged 82 and 84 respectively it warms the soul to know they are still out there doing what they love. We have people who work for our charity shops at the same age so no need to slow down if you don’t have to.

Paul and Ringo

It’s a bit twee this song, but it did well for Paul in the run-up to Christmas 1979 and was the first single he released after Wings came to an end. It peaked at No. 6 on the UK Singles Chart and was accompanied by a very festive video of Paul and Linda having a Wonderful Christmastime.

Wonderful Christmastime by Paul McCartney


I hope all my followers and blogging buddies have a wonderful Christmastime too. Someone who is missed on the blogs right now is our pal John from Are We There Yet? He’s a bit poorly at the moment so his Christmas will be severely challenged this year but we wish him all the best for a speedy recovery.

I will be going to DD’s for Christmas dinner this year. This is her first one in her new house so both ourselves and the in-laws have been invited along. No cooking for me tomorrow which is a big bonus. I shall enjoy being waited on by others – it’s payback time for all those years of having done it myself. Have a good one everyone.

Until next time…

Wonderful Christmastime Lyrics
(Song by Paul McCartney)

The mood is right
The spirit’s up
We’re here tonight
And that’s enough

Simply having a wonderful Christmastime
Simply having a wonderful Christmastime

The party’s on
The feeling’s here
That only comes
This time of year

Simply having a wonderful Christmastime
Simply having a wonderful Christmastime

The choir of children sing their song
Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo

Simply having a wonderful Christmastime
We’re simply having a wonderful Christmastime
Simply having a wonderful Christmastime

The word is out
About the town
To lift a glass
Oh, and don’t look down

Simply having a wonderful Christmastime
Simply having a wonderful Christmastime

Barbra and Whitney: Two Ladies With Big, Big Voices

When I wrote about the death of Kris Kristofferson recently, I mentioned that I would seek out the film A Star Is Born to watch over the weekend. This of course was the 1976 version he starred in with Barbra Streisand, and sure enough, there it was on one of the many streaming platforms. I ended up having to pay for the privilege, which always galls me when we already pay for so many subscriptions, but when you’re looking for something specific it always seems to be the way. But I digress, did I enjoy it as much nearly 50 years after first watching it? I kind of did, but I think the more mature me has become a bit jaded, as the love story didn’t come across as epic as I remembered. I did appreciate Mr Kristofferson, however, and despite the passage of time, his character could easily be transplanted into a film made in 2024. Those rugged good looks never go out of style and as he seemed to be allergic to shirts, we did see a lot of his toned, tanned chest (if I’m allowed to say that nowadays). Sadly Ms Streisand’s bubble perm didn’t stand the test of time in the same way, nor her wardrobe, but her voice was exceptional, as ever.


I have long been a fan of the multi-talented Barbra Streisand who was the first performer to be awarded an EGOT (an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony). She broke my heart playing Katie Morosky in The Way We Were (written about here) and I am in awe of her powerful singing voice. With Barbra you know she will always hit every note, and inject each song with raw emotion. Here is one of the songs she “reluctantly” performed in A Star Is Born. A slow burner that really picks up the pace as her character becomes more confident.

The Woman In The Moon by Barbra Streisand

Another lady who had a powerful voice, and always hit every note, was Whitney Houston. Funnily enough, I was reminded of her whilst searching for A Star Is Born on Netflix. I didn’t find it there but they throw up suggestions of a similar nature, and one of those suggestions was the Whitney biopic I Wanna Dance With Somebody which I had gone to see at the cinema at the start of this year. I see it got mixed reviews, which figures, as there have already been a couple of documentary films on her life so we already knew her story. Having an actress play her in a film that sugar-coated much of the negative aspects seemed pointless to me and who wants to watch an actress sing her songs when there is still so much Whitney footage out there. The whole film was saved for me by the coda, where we see a flashback to the 1994 American Music Awards when Whitney sang a medley, suggested by her musical director. The medley was 10 minutes long and melded together: I Loves You, Porgy; And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going; and, I Have Nothing. It was a rousing performance and she was met with a standing ovation. I was similarly blown away by it.

I Have Nothing by Whitney Houston:


The final song in that medley, I Have Nothing, was written for Whitney’s film The Bodyguard by husband and wife team David Foster and Linda Thompson. Some of us will remember that Linda was in a relationship with Elvis Presley in the years before his death and, a bit of trivia here, she revealed in her memoir that the lyrics “Stay in my arms if you dare / Or must I imagine you there / Don’t walk away from me” were inspired by her time with The King.


So, “What’s It All About?” – Two ladies there with big, big voices and I have enjoyed, over the last week, revisiting some of their finest-ever performances. Barbra is still with us at age 82 but poor Whitney died young at the age of 48 after drowning in her bath ahead of the 2012 pre-Grammy Awards party. It didn’t come as a shock as she had become increasingly erratic in her behaviour due to drug use in the weeks and months ahead of her death, but, what a waste. Had she managed to conquer her demons she would probably still be with us today and like Barbra, continue to work until the grand old age of 82.

Until next time…  

I Have Nothing Lyrics
(Song by David Foster/Linda Thompson)

Share my life, take me for what I am
‘Cause I’ll never change all my colors for you
Take my love, I’ll never ask for too much
Just all that you are and everything that you do

I don’t really need to look very much further
I don’t wanna have to go where you don’t follow
I won’t hold it back again, this passion inside
Can’t run from myself, there’s nowhere to hide

But don’t make me close one more door
I don’t wanna hurt anymore
Stay in my arms if you dare
Or must I imagine you there
Don’t walk away from me
I have nothing, nothing, nothing
If I don’t have you, you, you, you, you

You see through, right to the heart of me
You break down my walls with the strength of your love, mm
I never knew love like I’ve known it with you
Will a memory survive, one I can hold on to

I don’t really need to look very much further
I don’t wanna have to go where you don’t follow
I won’t hold it back again, this passion inside
I can’t run from myself, there’s nowhere to hide
Your love, I’ll remember forever

But don’t make me close one more door
I don’t wanna hurt anymore
Stay in my arms if you dare
Or must I imagine you there
Don’t walk away from me
I have nothing, nothing, nothing
Don’t make me close one more door
I don’t wanna hurt anymore
Stay in my arms if you dare
Or must I imagine you there
Don’t walk away from me
Don’t walk away from me

Don’t you dare walk away from me
I have nothing, nothing, nothing
If I don’t have you, you
If I don’t have you, oh you

A Man Of Many Talents: RIP Kris Kristofferson

Last time, I paid tribute to Quincy Jones who we lost at the start of November. Someone I haven’t yet paid tribute to, however, is Kris Kristofferson who died back in September. If I’d been blogging around that time, I most definitely would have written something, as he has appeared in this blog several times.

Mr Kristofferson is someone I have long admired but until I started blogging it was mainly through his film work. Back in the ’70s he appeared in many films (Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, Convoy, Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, A Star Is Born), and for some reason, he was one of the actors I took a real shine to. I have always had a penchant for a man with a beard (although not necessarily today’s hipster style), and he did sport a very rugged look back then. What I discovered once I started blogging, was that not only did he write some of the best-loved songs from that era, but he was probably one of those guys who would have succeeded in whichever path in life he chose. A top scholar, an accomplished athlete, a US Army captain, a helicopter pilot, a novelist, an actor, and a singer/songwriter.

Kris Kristofferson (sans beard) with James Coburn in Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid

Having double-checked, I find it incredible that he never once appeared on the UK Singles Chart in his own right, despite the fact so many of his songs did make an appearance when sung by other people – For the Good Times by Perry Como and Help Me Make It Through the Night by Gladys Knight and the Pips amongst others. He definitely did make an appearance for several weeks in a row however on 1977’s TOTP as he was Barbra Streisand‘s love interest in the film A Star Is Born. Much smooching was done during the filmed recording of the song Evergreen which was a massive hit for her that year. (Yes, my 16-year-old self was definitely smitten with Mr K in that one.)

Evergreen by Barbra Streisand (with Kris Kristofferson singing very badly!)
The back page of Words magazine from 1976, which unbelievably I still own

The last time I wrote about Kris around here was when I was challenged to write about the song Sunday Morning Coming Down. I soon discovered that although Kris wrote the song, and Ray Stevens was the first person to record it, it was only when Johnny Cash did a version in 1970 that it reached No. 1 on the Country Chart and won the Country Music Association Award for Song of the Year. The story is that Kris, who was working as a janitor at the time for Columbia Records in Nashville, mainly to get a foothold in the industry, flew his National Guard helicopter right onto Johnny’s front lawn to deliver the demo tape in person. That was the turning point for him as once Johnny took the song on, and made it his own, Kris was quoted as saying that he never again “had to work for a living”.

Here is a clip of Johnny and Kris singing the song as a duet. The preamble is something they used to do quite a lot of on these sorts of shows, and it can be a bit cringifying, but it does lead in to an excellent performance.

Sunday Morning Coming Down by Johnny Cash and Kris Kristofferson

I will finish with Kris performing Me and Bobby McGee which is probably the song most closely associated with him. He was a pioneering figure in the outlaw country movement of the 1970s, moving away from the polished Nashville Sound toward a rawer style. Maybe for this reason, I often prefer his songs to be sung by other people and Me and Bobby McGee has been recorded by many. It was originally performed by Roger Miller, then a posthumously released version by Janis Joplin topped the Billboard Chart in 1971. Over in Canada, Gordon Lightfoot released a version and then Kenny Rogers and the First Edition included it on their Ruby… album. But here is Kris in 1979 actually performing a version I quite like. Just the right amount of raw delivery in this one I think. The song is the story of two drifters – the narrator and Bobby McGee. The pair hitch a ride from a truck driver and sing as they drive through the American South before making their way west. They visit California and then part ways, with the song’s narrator expressing sadness afterward.

Me and Bobby McGee by Kris Kristofferson:


As with Quincy last time, Kris had a long life and achieved so much, but his passing will bring sadness to his close family and friends, and of course his fans. It is not always the case that stars have a long life however and I am mindful of the recent tragic death of ex-boyband member Liam Payne. Unlike Quincy and Kris, he became a worldwide sensation at a very young age but once the heyday of his band was over, it must be very hard to adapt to real life. I am hopeful that the management companies and record labels behind these boybands start to exercise more of a duty of care in the light of his death, but I’m not holding my breath.

But for now, I say farewell to that rugged, good-looking guy I was definitely smitten by as a teenager. I think I will have to seek out one of his films to watch this weekend as a bit of a reminder of those days. RIP Kris Kristofferson.

Kris Kristofferson 1936 to 2024

Until next time…

Me and Bobby McGee Lyrics
(Song by Kris Kristofferson)

Busted flat in Baton Rouge, waitin’ for a train
When I’s feelin’ near as faded as my jeans
Bobby thumbed a diesel down, just before it rained
And rode us all the way into New Orleans

I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandana
I’s playin’ soft while Bobby sang the blues
Windshield wipers slappin’ time, I’s holdin’ Bobby’s hand in mine
We sang every song that driver knew

Freedom is just another word for nothin’ left to lose
Nothin’, don’t mean nothin’ hon’ if it ain’t free, no-no
And feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues
You know feelin’ good was good enough for me
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee

From the Kentucky coal mine to the California sun
There Bobby shared the secrets of my soul
Through all kinds of weather, through everything we done
Yeah, Bobby baby, kept me from the cold

One day up near Salinas, Lord, I let him slip away
He’s lookin’ for that home, and I hope he finds it
But, I’d trade all of my tomorrows, for one single yesterday
To be holdin’ Bobby’s body next to mine

Freedom is just another word for nothin’ left to lose
Nothin’, and that’s all that Bobby left me, yeah
But feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues
That feelin’ good was good enough for me, mmm-hmm
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee

La-da-da, la-da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da-da-da
La-da-da-da-da-da-da-da, Bobby McGee, yeah
La-da-da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da
La, la-la-la-da-da- Bobby McGee, oh yeah

La-da-da, la-da-da, la, da-da, la, da-da
La-da-da, la-da-da, la-di-da
Hey now, Bobby now, now Bobby McGee, yeah
Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord, lo-da-da, na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na
Hey now, Bobby now, now Bobby McGee, yeah

Well, I wanna call him my lover, call him my man
I said, I call him my lover, did the best I can, come on
Hey now, Bobby now, hey now Bobby McGee, yeah
Lord, a Lord, a Lord, a Lord, a Lord, a Lord, a Lord, a Lord, oh
Hey-hey-hey, Bobby McGee, Lord

A New Found Appreciation: RIP Quincy Jones

We lost a titan of the music industry last Sunday when Quincy Delight Jones Jr., 91, died peacefully at his home in Bel-Air. He had come a long way from his humble beginnings on the South Side of Chicago. I thought I knew a fair bit about Quincy when I heard the news, but as ever, it’s not until you start to read the tributes that you discover how much you didn’t know.

I hadn’t, for example, realised he’d had quite the career as a jazz musician, arranger, and composer throughout the 1950s, and worked extensively with Frank Sinatra. Quincy first worked with Frank in 1958 and then six years later he was invited to arrange and conduct his live album with the Count Basie Orchestra, Sinatra at the Sands. Frank even gave him a gold pinkie ring with his personal crest and from that day on he never took it off.

Come Fly With Me by Frank Sinatra with the Count Basie Orchestra

I also didn’t know that Soul Bossa Nova, which became the theme tune for Mike Myers’ film series Austin Powers, was composed and first performed by Quincy in 1962. It got a whole new lease of life, and audience, when the first film was released in 1997.

Soul Bossa Nova by Quincy Jones

In the 1960s Quincy started to write the music for film soundtracks and along with Don Black created this bit of movie magic, On Days Like These, the theme tune for 1969’s The Italian Job starring Michael Caine. Sublime – one of my favourite ever film themes.

On Days Like These by Matt Monro

We’re now getting onto more familiar territory and I did know that Quincy produced the soundtrack for 1978’s The Wiz, the musical adaptation of The Wizard of Oz, starring Michael Jackson and Diana Ross. It was whilst working on The Wiz that Michael asked Quincy to recommend some producers for his upcoming solo album. He offered some names but when none were right for the project he eventually offered to produce the album himself. Michael accepted and the rest, as they say, is history. The first album they made together, Off the Wall, sold about 20 million copies. Michael and Quincy’s next collaboration, Thriller, sold 65 million copies and became the highest-selling album of all time. The third album in the trilogy was Bad, which sold 45 million copies, and this was the last time they worked together. 

Off The Wall by Michael Jackson

Quincy didn’t often produce albums under his own name but back in 1981 he released the The Dude. I wouldn’t have remembered this album but I very definitely remember the single Razzamatazz (with vocals by Patti Austin) as it climbed to No. 11 in the UK Singles Chart, Quincy’s biggest solo hit over here. Having just listened to it straight after Off The Wall, there is more than a passing similarity, which of course makes perfect sense.

Razzamatazz by Quincy Jones with Patti Austin:

This tribute is growing arms and legs and I am conscious that I seem to be relying on a string of YouTube clips. We’re nearly there though. I’m also conscious I’ve shared a clip of someone I had banished from this blog a few years ago. It just didn’t seem right to make no mention of the three albums Quincy made with Michael Jackson, however, as in terms of his musical legacy they were probably his finest hour. I actually enjoyed watching the 21-year-old Michael sing and dance his way through Off The Wall, as being objective, he really was a rare talent.

In 1985 Quincy used his influence to get most of the major American artists together to record We Are The World. It was the US version of our Band Aid single and it raised even more money for the victims of famine in Ethiopia. 

By the 1990s, Quincy Jones had his own production company and worked with film studios and television networks to make copious amounts of entertainment. He was the person who gave us Will Smith in the form of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and yes, you guessed it, he composed the theme tune for the show.

For the next 30 years Quincy continued to be active in the entertainment industry and as recently as 2020, he appeared on the album Dawn FM by the Weeknd, performing a monolog in the sixth track, A Tale by Quincy. I would urge you to listen to it. It explains a lot.

I am reminded of the post I wrote about Burt Bacharach when he died. Both he and Quincy were in their 90s when they died so it’s not a tragedy, but it does draw a line under their amazing body of work. Unlike with Burt, whose life’s work I was more familiar with, I have learnt a lot about Quincy writing this post. They don’t come along very often, these magicians of music, but aren’t we glad that a few times in a generation, they do. RIP Quincy Jones.

Until next time…

Razzamatazz Lyrics
(Song by Quincy Jones/Rod Temperton)

Don’t believe those clouds in the sky
‘Cause they’ll be movin’ on and the sun will shine
If the world’s been passin’ you by
Just reach for a star and you’ll realize

Got to put back all the good times that we had
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz

If you feel your life’s in a rut
Just come on out tonight, and we’ll pull you up
Ain’t no use in dragging your feet
‘Cause something’s in the air that just can’t be beat

Got to put back all the good times that we had
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)

Bring out the rides with all those white wall tires
Let’s go out cruisin’ like we used to do
Get suited down, let’s set the town on fire
Jump out your seat and let the music pull you through

We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)

Got to put back all the good times that we had
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)

Bring out the rides with all those white wall tires
Let’s go out cruisin’ like we used to do
Get suited down, let’s set the town on fire
Jump out your seat and let the music pull you through

You can lay your soul on the line
‘Cause we can make it work if we do it right
Got to spread this message around
The people of the world should be getting down

Got to put back all the good times that we had
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
(Give a bit of Razzamatazz)

An Autumn Reboot, T. Rex and “Metal Guru”

Well, I must be enjoying my time in Delaware a bit too much, as it’s been a while since I came up with anything new around here. When I say “my time in Delaware”, I of course mean the latest edition of my resurrected series, An American Odyssey In Song. But no, I will continue my journey around the states in due course – in the meantime I’ll explain why I’ve been so…

Lazy by David Byrne

In September we went down to Harrogate for another stay with my good friend from student days. I have however written a travelogue kind of post about Harrogate and Yorkshire before (link here) so I didn’t feel inclined to go there again. The difference this time was that our trip coincided with the local Flower Show and it turns out the amateur gardeners of North Yorkshire are dab hands at growing comically large vegetables. A small selection shown below.

Ooh err missus, what a lot of whoppers!

I’ll bet that’s the first time David Byrne has come next to a group of giant vegetables in a music blog. Not so for the Beach Boys, however, as they recorded a song about legumes back in 1967. If you don’t believe me here is the proof. The song was apparently a tongue-in-cheek promotion of organic food. Either that or about how marijuana was turning Brian Wilson and his friends into a “vegetative” state. I’ve heard it all now.

Vegetables by the Beach Boys

Our trip to Yorkshire ended up being extended by a couple of days as back in September LNER staff decided to strike on the weekend we were due to travel back north. Their online booking system confounded me when it came to changing our tickets, so I bought new ones for the Monday on the promise I would get a refund for the ones that were now useless. A hotel was booked in York and all was well – I thought. At the last minute the strike was cancelled so no refund after all. An expensive error of judgement on my part but I’m glad the rail workers came to a settlement.

The upside was that we really enjoyed our time in York. There had been a mini-meetup with some of my blogging buddies in that very city the year before, but that was just ahead of me becoming quite ill, so I couldn’t really enjoy that get-together as much as I should have. Second time around it went fine and we even won the pub quiz at the Cock and Bottle round the corner from our hotel! Here are some pictures from both the 2024 visit and from BlogCon23.

Regulars around here will probably remember that I was largely absent from this blog last year because my mental health took a turn for the worse. I even ended up becoming a hospital inpatient for quite some time. At the end of September, I had an appointment with the consultant I have to check in with every so often, and it was decided I should stop taking some of the medication I have been on for over a year now. Suffice it to say it didn’t go well and on top of the physical side-effects of stopping quite suddenly, I also felt very low which seriously affected my motivation for doing anything, including blogging. The good news is I’ve been back to see the consultant and I’m now back on the meds – not a long-term solution but in the meantime, I’m back to feeling like a better version of myself which is fine by me.


What I think will really get this blog started again is replacing “reading hour” with “writing hour.” To explain – last year when I was in hospital, Mr WIAA used to switch off the phones at 5pm and settle down with a book for an hour. It helped him unwind after a stressful day of worrying about me and fielding phone calls from concerned friends. He got through many novels during that time which was a first for him, as prior to that the same book used to sit by his bedside for about a year before it was finished. When I got home from hospital we kept up the same routine, but after 11 months, and 25 books completed, I think it’s time to change my routine. Having a dedicated hour set aside for a hobby is a good thing and I’m looking forward to becoming good friends with my blog again. (If anyone is interested in what I’ve been reading, I’ve listed my 25 in the postscript.)

I’ve mentioned the book below by Will Hodgkinson before, but I can’t recommend it enough to anyone who was born at the start of the 1960s and came of age in the 1970s. He covers the soundtrack to our teenage years, each chapter covering the various bands and singers who stole our hearts – and our pocket money – back then.

The first chapter is dedicated to Marc Bolan of T. Rex who along with a few others, came up with the musical sub-genre Glam Rock. T. Rex filled our rock and pop magazines in the early ’70s when they had a run of eleven top ten singles, four of which reached the top of the UK Singles Chart – Hot Love, Get It On, Telegram Sam and Metal Guru. I was at school camp in Ayrshire when Metal Guru reached the top spot. In those technologically primitive times, a small black and white television had been wheeled onto the stage of the hall where we all met up every evening, so that we could watch Top Of The Pops. I can still remember the big cheer that went out when we heard that Marc and Co. had knocked the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards version of Amazing Grace off the No. 1 position. We were Scottish, and they had bagpipes, but at the age of 12, all we wanted to hear was the sound of T. Rex.

Metal Guru by T. Rex:


I would love to say my friends and I had brought our glam gear to school camp, but no, satin and sequins hadn’t quite made it to the wardrobes of your average 12-year-old Scot back then. I did have some glittery eye shadow however that I wore to the disco at the end of the two weeks. I can’t remember now whether that was to match my crimplene flares, my hotpants with bib, or my gypsy style dress (all very fashionable in 1972) but I do remember that change was afoot. Colour televisions were appearing in living rooms all over the country and suddenly our favourite bands could be seen in all their glory. The costumes became more and more elaborate and were embraced by Slade, the Sweet, Mud, David Bowie et al. The teenage years were just about to start and we had been born at just the right time!

Until next time…

Metal Guru Lyrics
(Song by Marc Bolan)

Whoa-oh, yeah
Metal guru, is it you?
Metal guru, is it you?
Sitting there in your armour plated chair oh yeah
Metal guru, is it true?
Metal guru, is it true?
All alone without a telephone oh yeah

Metal guru could it be you’re gonna bring my baby to me?
She’ll be wild you know, a rock ‘n’ roll child, oh yeah

Metal guru has it been
Just like a silver-studded saber-toothed dream
I’ll be clean you know, pollution machine

Metal guru, is it you?
Metal guru, is it you? Oh, yeah
Whoa-oh, yeah whoa, whoa
Metal guru could it be you’re gonna bring my baby to me?
She’ll be wild you know, a rock ‘n’ roll child oh yeah

Metal guru, is it you?
Metal guru, is it you?
All alone without a telephone

Metal guru could it be you’re gonna bring my baby to me?
She’ll be wild you know, a rock’n’roll child oh yeah

Metal guru, is it you? Yeah, yeah, yeah
Metal guru, is it you? Yeah, yeah, yeah
Metal guru, is it you? Yeah, yeah, yeah
Metal guru, is it you? Yeah, yeah, yeah
Metal guru, is it you? Yeah, yeah, yeah


Postscript:

Mainly for my own record, here is the list of books I’ve read so far this year. I’ve highlighted the ones I enjoyed most in case anyone trusts my judgement.

We Solve Murders – Richard Osman
The First Casualty – Ben Elton
The Housemaid – Freida McFadden
The Other Queen – Philippa Gregory
The Last Tudor – Philippa Gregory
The Lost Bookshop – Evie Woods
The Zone of Interest – Martin Amis
Demon Copperhead – Barbara Kingsolver
Tell Me A Secret – Jane Fallon
Never Greener – Ruth Jones
The Dead of Winter – Stuart MacBride
Larch Tree Lane – Anna Jacobs
Meantime – Frankie Boyle
In Perfect Harmony: Singalong Pop in 70s Britain – Will Hodgkinson
Companion Piece – Ali Smith
French Braid – Anne Tyler
A Mother’s Heart – Carmel Harrington

All of the following by Louise Candlish – I really got into her this summer after reading her newest novel Our Holiday. Probably best suited to female readers but a particular house always features as a main character which is a bit different. Psychological thrillers in the main.

Our Holiday
The Second Husband
The Day You Saved My Life
The Island Hideaway
The Sudden Disappearance of the Frasers
The Only Suspect
The Disappearance of Emily Marr
The Heights

Surprise Finds, Dobie Gray and “Out On The Floor”

I think I’ve mentioned around here before that I now volunteer in a local charity shop. It’s only for one day a week but I’ve really come to enjoy my day in the shop, in amongst all those things people have found excess to requirements.

This week I was going through a trolley of things which had to be priced ready to go out on the shop floor and in amongst it all there were three 45rpm singles – the one at the top caught my eye. It was the song Out On The Floor by Dobie Gray. But of course Dobie wasn’t singing about anything going out on a shop floor, he was singing about dancing, and I knew this song was a big favourite with the Northern Soul faithful back in the early to mid 70s. Could you ever find lyrics more appropriate for people who regularly attended “all-nighters” in repurposed dancehalls in the North of England?

Out On The Floor by Dobie Gray


I’ve written about Northern Soul around here before (link to posts), as it fascinates me how a body of young northern men came to love dancing to obscure soul records from the mid 60s so much, but it wasn’t until I read this book by Stuart Cosgrove that I realised how little I knew about it all. Although Stuart is a Scot, back in the day he and his friends would travel south to attend the legendary all-nighters in places like Wigan Casino and in doing so he built up a vast knowledge of not only the records that were played but of the various characters best known on the circuit. It was all down to a handful of DJs really and where they went the crowds followed. What a time to have been alive.


If you are interested in the history of Northern Soul I would thoroughly recommend Stuart’s book. As for Dobie’s record in the shop, I didn’t buy it as it’s definitely not one of those really rare ones that change hands for lots of money, and I don’t think it was in very good condition, but it certainly drew me to a song that has become an earworm for the rest of the week. Thankfully a nice earworm.

Until next time…

Out On The Floor Lyrics
(Song by Fred Darian/Alfred V De Lory)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, babe’s it’s out of sight

Out on the floor each night, I’m really movin’
The band’s is wailin’ right I feel like groovin’
The chicks are out of sight and I am grooving
The crowd is in tonight beggin’ for more

I get my kicks out on the floor

I am on the floor tonight, I feel like singin
The beat is running right and guitars are ringin’
I’m really on tonight and everything swingin’
The room is packed out tight, light at the door

So I get my kicks out on the floor

Yeah, yeah, yeah, babe’s it’s out of sight

When I’m out on the floor, it makes me feel like a king
Everybody here, don’t you know what I mean
It makes me wanna move (makes me wanna move).
It makes me feel that groove (make me feel that groove).
I wanna twist and shout (makes me twist and shout).
Work it on out (make me work it on out)

When I feel that beat (feel that beat), I gotta move my feet

Out on the floor tonight, I feel like singin’
The beat is hot and bright, guitars are ringin’
The chicks are out of sight everything’s swingin’
The room is packed up tight, lined at the door, oh, yeah
So I’m gettin’ my kicks, out on the floor (I got some more)
Don’t you feel that beat, down in in your feet

Birthdays, Football Tournaments and Sweet Summer Songs

WIAA: You know what I’m about to say, Alyson, don’t you?

ALYSON: I do indeed, WIAA, and I’m sorry your pages have remained blank so far this month. I could say I’ve been really busy, but in truth it seems that I’m just prioritising other things at the moment – sorry about that. What can I do to redeem myself?

WIAA: Hmm… let me think. How about WRITING SOMETHING! Just let your fingers dance around the keyboard telling us what you’ve been up to?

ALYSON: Good plan WIAA.

The big news is that DD and the still relatively new Mr DD have bought their first house together. An exciting time for them but also a busy time, as it being a 10-year-old house there is a fair bit of DIY to be done to get it just the way they want it. Guess who’s been doing the DIY? To be fair, the lion’s share has been down to her dad who is flooring their loft as I type. There is method in this madness, however, as our own loft might finally get a decent clear out of all the stuff she accumulated during her teenage years/early twenties when she had more disposable cash but a childhood bedroom too small to hold it all. I have an awful feeling most will go to the recycling centre but now at least there will be options.

The House That Jack Built by Tracie

In other news, we’ve had a short caravan holiday on our favourite beach up in East Sutherland. I’ve written about such holidays before so I won’t go there again but it was very relaxing indeed. The weather was not kind but in three days we went to three folk museums and three coffee shops, had three walks along the beach (in between rainstorms) and three nice dinners. The first of these dinners was paella cooked by Mr WIAA to celebrate my birthday. The cards and flowers I’d received in the morning came on holiday with us and a lovely day was had, despite the fact a very age-specific Beatles song kept ringing in my ears. Suddenly the age mentioned in the song didn’t feel very old at all, but then you remember two of the Beatles didn’t even make it, so feeling blessed (especially after my stint in hospital last year) to be happy and healthy at this point in my life.

When I’m Sixty-Four by the Beatles:


It would be hard to miss the fact there is a big football tournament going on at the moment, the Euros, so lots of coverage on the main two television channels. I no longer follow club football but I do like the big tournaments as it’s a chance to see some of the world’s best players perform their magic on the pitch. From the 1970s on I’ve followed these biannual events and am lucky to have watched players such as Pele and Johan Cruyff as well as the more recent superstars such as Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo.

The Tartan Army en route to a match

Sadly Scotland doesn’t have such superstars in their squad which might excuse them for their humiliating defeat last Friday night. I had to leave the room at one point as it was just so tough to watch after the big build up and following the antics of the 200,000 strong tartan army partying ahead of the match. It’s been 26 years since the tartan army had a chance to travel abroad for a tournament and they were certainly going to enjoy it. This song sums up their attitude I think, and despite the heavy defeat in their first match, optimism is high again ahead of their match tonight. (Don’t be misled by the still in this clip, it’s a very funny video.)

No Scotland No Party by Nick Morgan:


As this post is very much a web diary kind of affair what else have I been up to since the end of April? Many more hours of socialising with friends it seems. I really thought it would tail off once I’d been home from hospital for a while, but not a week passes without people getting in touch about going for walk, meeting up for coffee, organising a trip to the cinema… – I really am a very lucky lady and at no point over the last few months have I missed running the holiday hideaway. It was hard work and the standards I set myself were so high I was permanently exhausted and tied to my phone. Much better to do my weekly stint volunteering in the charity shop and continue to run our little online jewellery business. We’re definitely never going to make a fortune from it but it ticks over nicely and you just never know when a really interesting commission might come in.


As I mentioned the cinema above, our Film Club pick for last month was Bleeding Love starring one of my favourite actors, Ewan MacGregor. His real life daughter Clara plays his daughter in the movie. I always avoid reading the review for a film until after I’ve seen it so that I’m not predisposed to thinking a certain way about it. My friend and I both liked this story of the difficult road trip both characters went on, so were surprised when the reviews were less than favourable. Something else my friend and I liked was one of the songs on the soundtrack so we waited until all the credits rolled to see who it was by. As the words crept up the screen we eventually came to the songs. As soon as the names Bobby and Billy come up, I knew who it was going to be – yes, back in 1976 those Alessi brothers (of Oh Lori fame) wrote the sweet song Seabird which had now made it’s way into a MacGregor family offering 48 years later. They will be old men now just like I’m an old woman but having these songs in their back pocket is definitely something to impress the grandchildren with.

Seabird by Alessi:


Not much more to write about really as I’ve had a bit of an outpouring here. I no longer keep a paper diary so I like to use this blog as a reminder of what’s been going on in the world, and closer to home. Speaking of what’s going on in the world I didn’t mention the upcoming General Election, but that might be because I don’t watch much news nowadays and I know I’m not alone. Come the day I will turn out to vote but the electioneering is leaving me cold. What never leaves me cold however is a blogger’s meet-up and if all goes well there will be one next week. Looking forward to it very much and there will no doubt be stories to tell.

Until next time…

Seabird Lyrics
(Song by Bobby Alessi/Billy Alessi)

There’s a road I know I must go
Even though I tell myself
That road is closed

Listen, lonely seabird
You’ve been away from land too long
Aw, too long

I don’t listen to the news no more
Like an unwound clock
You just don’t seem to care
This world isn’t big enough
To keep me away from you
Oh, from you

Seabird, seabird
Fly home
Seabird, seabird
Fly home
Like a lonely seabird
You’ve been away from land too long
Oh, too long

Suddenly, you’re with me
I turn, and you’re not there
Like a ghost, you haunt me
You find warmth in a one-night bed

Sunsets, full moons
Don’t turn you on
Like an untied dog
You just had to run

Like a lonely seabird
You’ve been away from land too long
Oh, no, too long (so long, seabird)

Seabird, seabird
Fly home (like a lonely bird)
Seabird, seabird
Fly home

Seabird, seabird
Fly home (seabird, sea)
Seabird, seabird
Fly home

Singalong Hits of The ’70s: Chicory Tip and “Son Of My Father”

I’m going to quickly pop my head above the parapet just in case people think I’m unwell again. Anything but actually, just not had as much time for blogging because of all the socialising I’ve been doing, plus, I’ve got myself a job in a charity shop. Not had time yet, but I intend to have a good look through the vinyl and CDs in the shop to seek out any gems that have accidentally found themselves being donated. As for all the socialising, I thought I would lose touch again with most of the people who came to see me in hospital, but not at all – I’m fully booked up for walks, coffees and cinema trips on a weekly basis and my good friend from student days came all the way up from Harrogate to see me last week. A fun time was had by all.

But what else have I been doing other than donning my charity shop apron and socialising? I’ve been doing a fair bit of reading (5pm in our house is now “Reading Hour”) and I’ve just finished this book by Will Hodgkinson, where he revisits the singalong pop of the 1970s. Most of this music has been forgotten about and doesn’t get played on the radio any more, but as Will points out, the hits of Slade, the Sweet and Suzi Quatro were there to brighten up people’s lives at a particularly difficult time in Britain’s history. No-one has ever written a critical essay about the song Son Of My Father by Chicory Tip, but as Will postulates, isn’t a radio hit that appealed to millions back in 1972 socially significant? The decade had begun with the song Grandad by Clive Dunn and ended with There’s No One Quite Like Grandma by the St Winifred’s School Choir, but in between those two singalong horrors there was much to lift the spirits at a time of three-day weeks, rampant inflation and power cuts.

Son Of My Father by Chicory Tip:


I think I’m going to revisit several of the artists and songs in Will’s book (a new mini-series perhaps), but as I’ve already mentioned them, here is Chicory Tip with their catchy singalong hit. It was apparently the first hit single to feature a Moog synthesiser as a lead instrument, overlapping the lines of melody to create a catchy song.

Chicory Tip

I think everyone who was around at the time would remember this group from TOTP and the lead singer had a fine example of a feather cut hairstyle, cropped at the top with longer hair at the back and sides. The band were from Kent and were still working as printers and engineers when they found chart success. Fun fact – the song was written by Giorgio Moroder who would go on to become the father of Euro disco and it was a hit all over Europe in 1972. Not all Europeans were happy about this however as they thought too much British music was infiltrating their charts, and although it might have been accidental, a missing apostrophe and unfortunate tight spacing on the cover of the Swedish single certainly packed a punch – ENGLANDSHIT.

So, “What’s It All About?” – I love reading books about the history of pop and Will’s book should appeal to anyone who was born in the early ’60s and loved the mainstream pop music of the ’70s. In the coming months we shall revisit some of the other songs that have all but been forgotten but will forever hog a place amongst the rest of the “tracks of our years”.

Until next time…

Son Of My Father Lyrics
(Song by Giorgio Moroder/Michael Holm/Peter Bellotte)

Mama said to me we gotta have your life run right
Off you go to school where you can learn the rules they write
Be just like your dad lad
Follow in the same tradition
Never go astray and stay an honest lovin’ son

Son of my father
Moulded, I was folded, I was free from draft
Son of my father
Commanded, I was branded in a plastic vac’
Surrounded and confounded by statistic facts

Tried to let me in but I jumped out of my skin in time
I saw through the lies and read the alibi signs
So I left my home I’m really on my own at last
Left the trodden path and separated from the past

Son of my father
Changing, rearranging into someone new
Son of my father
Collecting and selecting independent views
Knowing and I’m showing that a change is due

Son of my father
Moulded, I was folded, I was free from draft
Son of my father
Commanded, I was branded in a plastic vac’
Surrounded and confounded by statistic facts

A Blog Birthday, David Bowie’s “Good Hair” and Golden Years

It was this blog’s 8th birthday yesterday and I got one of these anniversary badges from the WordPress people. Considering my long enforced absence for much of last year, the popping up of that badge was extra special, as at times I had thought my blogging days were over.

I always know when the anniversary is approaching as my blogging career started the day we found out about the death of David Bowie so it was inevitable I would write about him. He was only 69 when he died so we felt a bit cheated as he had become quite prolific over the last few years of his life producing new albums and creating a musical, Lazarus, which opened Off-Broadway in the December of 2015 when he made his last public appearance. Lazarus is a jukebox musical that was inspired by the 1963 novel The Man Who Fell To Earth which in turn was made into a film starring David in 1976. Lazarus continues the story of Thomas Newton, a humanoid alien who is stuck on Earth, unable to die or return to his home planet.

David as Thomas Newton in The Man Who Fell To Earth

Of late, whenever I write about David Bowie I can’t help remarking on his incredibly good hair. Some of us in life are blessed with “good hair” (as my mum would have called it), and I am very jealous of them, as my fine baby soft hair has always been tricky to deal with and the fashionable styles of the day have usually had to pass me by. Bowie on the other hand changed his hair’s style and colour every time he invented a new persona. Who could forget his Ziggy Stardust “do” and the Thin White Duke’s (above), as well as his long locks of earlier years and the blond bouffant of the Let’s Dance years. Even at his death he still had a fine head of hair which is quite unusual for men approaching 70.


I mention all this as I have my final story to tell that relates to my stay in hospital last year. Before my blogging hiatus I had mentioned that my life in the sun (without a hat at any rate), had come to an end as the troublesome “sore” on my scalp where my parting fell, turned out to be a carcinoma, or BCC as they are called. I had ignored it for a long time and the waiting list to have such things removed is equally as long.

At last the date for the procedure at our local General Hospital came round, however, I was still an inpatient at the other large hospital in our town (see previous posts for which one). It took a bit of coordination, but I was transferred across very early in the morning, wheeled down to theatre and put under general anaesthetic, after which the offending bit of scalp was removed. It took me a bit of time to come round, after which I was given some lunch and transferred back to “my hospital”. All very efficient and seamless I hear you say, which is true as the procedure went well, except I now had a set of stitches across my scalp smeared in a Vaseline-like substance that couldn’t be washed out for seven days. My hair was also caked in blood at the back where it had trickled down during the surgery. I didn’t quite look like Frankenstein’s monster but in my mind’s eye I did, because there were no mirrors in the hospital. Every meal time I had to explain to whoever sat next to me what had happened, but I still got many odd looks that week. Finally we got to hair washing day. Andrea the nurse helped with that, and also gave me a bit of a blow dry which was good of her. They don’t shave your head any more thankfully when having such procedures but it’s definitely a bit thinner than it was, so the parting has had to move west a little and a mini combover has to be hair-sprayed into place. Even now, a few months on, I still have to apply chemotherapy cream (who knew that was a thing?) onto the offending bit of scalp every day. Thankfully Mr WIAA, with the help of a cotton bud, does that for me as I don’t have eyes on the back of my head, although we all know people who do!

Anyway, back to the music and the follicly blessed David Bowie. As I’ve written about his time playing the character Thomas Newton in the film he made in 1976, I’m going to choose something from the album he released that same year, Station To Station, where he played the character The Thin White Duke. I give you Golden Years.

Golden Years by David Bowie


Golden Years is apparently a funk and disco song reminiscent of the music on David’s previous album, Young Americans. The song also utilises elements of several ’50s doo-wop tracks in its arrangement. Lyrically, the narrator offers a companion the hope of entering a limousine, and being isolated from the outside world. He assures his companion that she will always be protected by him, and promises her a brighter future. Well, now we know, and I wouldn’t have worked that one out back in the day.

So, “What’s It All About?” – Who would have thought eight years ago I would still be tapping away on my keyboard all this time later. We had a bit of a scare last year when it looked as if I might not make a return, but happy to say I am just as enthused about blogging as a hobby as ever (or again, could it be the drugs!?).

As for having good hair like David Bowie, I think that ship has well and truly sailed, although I paid a visit to my hairdresser earlier on this afternoon and she did report back that there are short hairs growing in the general area of the surgery, so that’s a relief.


David Bowie was the first person I ever wrote about on this blog and I have revisited his body of work many times since, usually around the time of the blog’s anniversary. I think I was too young to truly appreciate him during the height of his fame in the early ’70s, but in later life I have come to realise he was the consummate artist, who could sing, act, write songs, create art… the list goes on. I also remember reading this week that he has been voted the Best Dressed Man In History. Not sure if some of his wacky Ziggy Stardust outfits helped or hindered in the receiving of that accolade, but he certainly was one cool dude. On that note I shall finish for today. Have a good weekend everyone.

Until next time…

Golden Years Lyrics
(Song by David Bowie)

Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Golden years, gold whop whop whop

Don’t let me hear you say life’s taking you nowhere
Angel
Come get up, my baby
Look at that sky, life’s begun
Nights are warm and the days are young
Come get up, my baby

There’s my baby, lost that’s all
Once I’m begging you save her little soul
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Come get up, my baby

Last night they loved you
Opening doors and pulling some strings
Angel
Come get up, my baby
In walked luck and you looked in time
Never look back, walk tall, act fine
Come get up, my baby

I’ll stick with you, baby, for a thousand years
Nothing’s gonna touch you in these golden years
Gold
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Come get up, my baby

Some of these days, and it won’t be long
Gonna drive back down where you once belonged
In the back of a dream car twenty foot long
Don’t cry, my sweet, don’t break my heart
Doing all right, but you gotta get smart
Wish upon, wish upon, day upon day, I believe, oh Lord
I believe all the way
Come get up, my baby
Run for the shadows, run for the shadows
Run for the shadows in these golden years

There’s my baby, lost that’s all
Once I’m begging you save her little soul
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Come get up, my baby

Don’t let me hear you say life’s taking you nowhere
Angel
Come get up, my baby
Run for the shadows, run for the shadows
Run for the shadows in these golden years

I’ll stick with you, baby, for a thousand years
Nothing’s gonna touch you in these golden years
Gold

Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Golden years, gold whop whop whop