Out of Time [new song video]

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LIVING-ROOM VIDEO #60: “Out of Time”. This is a new song that was originally going to be a short story. I think it’s an interesting subject. I describe its heart and meaning in the video. See what you think. Click on the heading at the top and you’ll be able to read the lyrics:

You were still in your teens when I first saw your face;
innocence, beauty, with laughter and grace.
I thought one day you would find some lucky guy
who’d fill the space next to you till one of you died.

Then we both went on our separate ways —
Twelve thousand nights and a myriad days.
I have to confess I have thought of your light;
I could not shake you off — try as I might.

Now here you stand after years have flown past;
you telling me now that your loves did not last.
Darling, love never dies; but we often are wed
to those who should’ve been just a boyfriend instead.

[Refrain]
I wish I could give you the love that you want —
the love that you need and deserve.
But I’m out of time while you’re still a debutante.
I doubt  that our paths can converge.

You’ve been through your changes in so many ways;
it’s hard to see love in a fizzled-out blaze.
But people are lessons for those who will learn;
and that must include even those you have spurned.

    [Vocal Bridge]
    When I think
of what could have been
between us, darling,
when you were eighteen.
    I loved you so,
    and I always will.
The things we want most
    are what we rarely fulfil.

Somehow we think that this theatre of dreams
should have given us more than we got, so it seems.
But it’s down to us to bleed every vein dry;
we’re given the chances, up to us then to try.

You thought that we could just pick up where we left;
you said that without me you have felt bereft.
I could say the same, living life without you;
but we don’t always get what we think that we’re due.

[Refrain]
I wish I could give you the love that you want —
the love that you need and deserve.
But I’m out of time while you’re still a debutante.
I doubt that our paths can converge.


© Alan Morrison, 2020

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