Oisin
gone but not forgotten
Right! This is me very last shot at doin' romantic. If this ain't it, I give in - that's a promise...
SHOPWORK GIRL
Where are you now shopwork girl?
Are you with your knight?
Who took you off on his white steed?
And to a better life?
Does he make you happy?
And sometimes when you’re low
Is he always there for you
No matter what’s gone wrong?
Now as you stroll round your estate,
Counting out the roods,
With Spaniels yapping at your heels,
Dressed in your country clothes,
Do you think of way back when
The scene was swinging fast,
And ‘trannies’ tuned to Luxembourg,
Or Alan Freeman’s pops,
Set your feet a-tapping
To a Lennon and McCartney song?
You were pretty way back then,
Slim with long fair hair,
But wore your skirts a touch too long
Your shoes a little square.
You didn’t have an interest in
Keeping up with styles.
Having no one close to you,
You didn’t spare the time.
Lost in that void, you met a clown
(Do you remember how?)
Introduced by a mutual friend,
He offered you his hand.
With aspirations held in check,
You took his palm and smiled.
Not knowing what the future held,
You uttered some pat line.
Soon to that clown you became
More than just a whim.
He drew you from the shadows,
And let you lean on him.
He taught you how to laugh again,
Turned darkness into day.
In return he took your trust,
Each to each you gave.
But like a flower that blooms in spring
And dies when summer comes,
Youth is but the season,
And first love is the flower
So with your newfound self esteem
You grew in restlessness.
When time rang out the changes
The tide began to ebb.
So where are you shopwork girl?
Are you still with your knight?
Or did you draw him from your dreams?
A ruse to keep you out of reach.
Is your estate a lonely room
Your only jewel some old sad tune
And are the spaniels at your feet
Just memories and pride?
SHOPWORK GIRL
Where are you now shopwork girl?
Are you with your knight?
Who took you off on his white steed?
And to a better life?
Does he make you happy?
And sometimes when you’re low
Is he always there for you
No matter what’s gone wrong?
Now as you stroll round your estate,
Counting out the roods,
With Spaniels yapping at your heels,
Dressed in your country clothes,
Do you think of way back when
The scene was swinging fast,
And ‘trannies’ tuned to Luxembourg,
Or Alan Freeman’s pops,
Set your feet a-tapping
To a Lennon and McCartney song?
You were pretty way back then,
Slim with long fair hair,
But wore your skirts a touch too long
Your shoes a little square.
You didn’t have an interest in
Keeping up with styles.
Having no one close to you,
You didn’t spare the time.
Lost in that void, you met a clown
(Do you remember how?)
Introduced by a mutual friend,
He offered you his hand.
With aspirations held in check,
You took his palm and smiled.
Not knowing what the future held,
You uttered some pat line.
Soon to that clown you became
More than just a whim.
He drew you from the shadows,
And let you lean on him.
He taught you how to laugh again,
Turned darkness into day.
In return he took your trust,
Each to each you gave.
But like a flower that blooms in spring
And dies when summer comes,
Youth is but the season,
And first love is the flower
So with your newfound self esteem
You grew in restlessness.
When time rang out the changes
The tide began to ebb.
So where are you shopwork girl?
Are you still with your knight?
Or did you draw him from your dreams?
A ruse to keep you out of reach.
Is your estate a lonely room
Your only jewel some old sad tune
And are the spaniels at your feet
Just memories and pride?
