The Bluebird Cafe

I stopped at the bluebird cafe by Coniston Water
I went over the Hardknot Pass under Scafell Pike
I lingered with the Hardwick sheep on the shore of Windermere
Where the rain fell down and the mists obscured my sight
I chugged down the Eskdale railway to the station
I visited Muninster Castle where the owls seem to cry
I viewed Sellafield from Ravensglass harbour
Where in the small street there, no one seemed to alive
And I sat in the Bluebird Café by Coniston water
My thoughts like a gentle whispering breeze
That were trailing behind me through mountain passes
With my dreams in the hilltops and my feet in the Irish Seas
And I sat in the Bluebird Cafe by Coniston water
I saw the bird of the blues disappear into the trees
And the ferry too come circling into the harbour
And the sun came through the clouds on its hands and knees
And I tried to think of you by Coniston Water
I tried to think of you in the Bluebird Café
But like the mists and the breezes my thoughts were trailing
And the sun and the rain they went away
You should have been here with me by Coniston Water
You should be here with me in the Bluebird Café
You should have been here with me but all I have is the breeze
You should have been here with me on this strange holiday
The coach man had to hurry, I hardly had time for some tea

Sombre Music Piece

i got it into my head to try and write a symphony on my music app. This was to be 2nd movement. I’d love to get feedback on this or any other item I’ve posted. Regards, Michael.

I Live on the Streets of Windsor

Please click on the link to see a PDF of the music.

i live on the streets of Windsor

Lyrics to I live on the streets of Windsor

I live on the streets of Windsor
But they want to take me away
And leave me in the graveyard
Where life is not so gray

I saw a band of soldiers
With a marching band
Ev’ry man there he was ready
To die fighting for his land

I’m sleeping under cardboard
I cannot get to sleep
The rollers drive right past me
They make me quietly weep

I live on the streets of Winsor
I sleep on paper and card
They’ll move me to the graveyard
Where life is not so hard

 

 

 

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