Monday, 16 March 2009

Monday's Song


I will admit that recent sleeplessness led to my using prescribed help in order to grab some zzz's last night; so I've no idea if the song I've chosen was completely appropriate. But at 9AM, the sun's well & truly out to play (with his hat on, as the song goes) - was it misty?, let's imagine so,  but red wine & zopiclone are no substitute for meth's & gin - thankfully.


Such a fine bit of writing by Roy Wood - session muso Nicky Hopkins (who recorded with The Who, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, The Easybeats etc etc...) providing the harpsichord; arranged by Tony Visconti, who also played the strings/woodwind - this is the sound that led to The Electric Light Orchestra; for better or for worse.

Here ya go then - in glorious  mono; more baroque than rock, and lyrically... a long way from cheerful.
Mist on a Monday Morning - The Move
Move (1968)
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I wake and yawn at the crack of dawn
With dewdrops on my feet
As I rise up to greet the morning
Nothing much to eat
Every breath I take seems to make my body ache
My only friend is mist on a Monday morning

Pick up my sack and walk for miles
Never thinking why
To the brewer's yard where I can sit
And watch my life go by
Drink and Drink all day till my memory melts away
I need a friend like mist on a Monday morning

Where's my wife, has she gone?
I hear misty morning call
One foot resting in the grave
Destined not to see her anymore

There's a den in the grass by the autopath
Of corrugated steel
I may be sleeping there tonight
depending how I feel
Damp and dirty place
Printing sorrow on my face
With nothing but the mist on a Monday morning

Where's my wife, has she gone?
I hear misty morning call
One foot resting in the grave
Destined not to see her anymore

From meth's and gin, I feel the sin
Like weals upon my feet
Intoxicated by the night
I stumble in the street
Every breath I take seems to make my body ache
And drift into the mist on a Monday morning
 
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