Tears cry on the inside (Lyrics)

Sun shines on the gloomy days

Dragging me out of bed

To live in another dream world

Painting pictures in head;

Reality can be so painful 

When nothing seems to be left

Abstract ideas of companions

Yet nobody is there

.

My tears cry on the inside, Baby,

Like filling a sea

On good days I can be sailing

No wave enough to stop me;

Without you day turned to darkness

A moon dragging up stormy seas

When I think at night, I remember the past

And I get that sinking feeling:

I’ll never be that happy again.

.

Every day brings new opportunity

If only others believed

The monster they’ve seen within me

Is a love that used to be,

Nobody has true colour

When they all read in black and white

How can I live in real pictures

When I’m not allowed a proper chance

.

My tears cry on the inside, Baby,

Like filling a sea

On good days I can be sailing

No wave enough to stop me;

Without you day turned to darkness

A moon dragging up stormy seas

When I think at night, I remember the past

And I get that sinking feeling:

I’ll never be that happy again.

.

I’d love you tomorrow

If you came back to me

I’d have a lover today

If that’s what’s supposed to be

But I go it alone

With some hopeless hope

And a bad recurring dream

.

My tears cry on the inside, Baby,

Like filling a sea

On good days I can be sailing

No wave enough to stop me;

Without you day turned to darkness

A moon dragging up stormy seas

When I think at night, I remember the past

And I get that sinking feeling:

I’ll never be that happy again…

Unless someone gives me a chance.

.

People cannot hide or deceive forever. End playing games with people’s lives. Do not take ideas away from struggling artists without recognising their contribution otherwise they stop producing art. I hope the world finds TRUTH and stops those killing creativity and making others miserable through bullying or by blocking their life, or taking their ideas to use as their own.

©Please do not copy and edit, or reproduce without permission from the author (Abelia May) and full acknowledgement of the author (Abelia May) and website address

Featured

Love has a soul (lyrics)

Photo by Jonathan Meyer on Pexels.com

Swipe left, for a lonely night

Tick box, for some lying lines

(Swipe 9, Tick 1, Swipe more, What’s the score?)

.

Dating is so functional

Treating people like love’s logical

Hatched and enhanced to perfected mates

Compatibility a given to procreate

Wonts and desires repeated to assimilate

You’d get closer to what an AI really thinks

.

When you pick from the mix

It’s just another let down

Beating ego to the ground

Anticlimax reaching to unsatisfied

.

You fill my ears like an update

Slowing time, wait a while, forced date

Nothing new – already getting out of date

Just how long is this gonna take

(Counting up complete percent 1, 2, 3, 4…)

Waiter please shut down – I’m heading for the door

.

Time wasters, fraudsters, lookers for an adult fling

Disappointments leave me wondering

Seeing everything so dimensional

Influenced only by subliminal

Ignoring 3D of personal

Pretending love never had a soul

.

When you pick from the mix

It’s just another let down

Beating ego to the ground

Anticlimax reaching to unsatisfied

.

You fill my ears like an update

Slowing time, wait a while, forced date

Nothing new – already getting out of date

Just how long is this gonna take

(Counting up complete percent 1, 2, 3, 4…)

Waiter please shut down – I’m heading for the door

.

Do not take ideas away from struggling artists without recognising their contribution otherwise they stop producing art. I hope the world finds TRUTH and stops those killing creativity and making others miserable through bullying or by blocking their life, or taking their ideas to use as their own.

©Please do not copy and edit, or reproduce without permission from the author (Abelia May) and full acknowledgement of the author (Abelia May) and website address

The ghastly Edwardian Corny County election affair (definitely a fictional Poem)

It was the year of nineteen and four

When Corny County gathered to score

Between Liberal and a Tory vote

In what soon became a political joke

.

It started as a humble affair

The hopefuls took stand to declare

To help the poor, be not so poor

Both raising hands to accept applause:

‘But they can never be rich’, the Tory quipped,

‘However, we can never be sure’, the Liberal called.

The crowd acknowledged each in different parts

‘Twas then the fun did really start

As Liberal looked with hint of envy

At his counterpart, unfairly wealthy

.

‘Don’t vote for him… he doesn’t wash his feet!’

.

A silence fell upon the faces,

looking up at whence it came from

.

‘Well, he doesn’t’ continued the voice

‘And if he takes off his shoes, you’d better hurry up and move,

Else you’ll be looking awful pink, when you’re caught in his noxious stink!’

.

The sniggers sniggered, and laughter spluttered

As the Tory raged and began to utter

‘It’s better than being a hot balloon

Under bedsheets at night, piping out a tune!’

.

Back and forth the insults came

Like rally in a tennis game

.

‘Well the fungus found between his toes,

Is what’s thought offed the dinosaurs!’

.

‘Beware of him at dinner time

He never goes to wash his hands

Along with all the tasty treats

He tops it off with finger grime!’

.

‘See him, it is well known

When no-one looks he picks his nose,

And if that isn’t quite enough

He eats the bogies that he’s poked!’

.

‘You should all go check your facts,

They make fat candles with his ear wax!’

.

‘Without hand or hanky, when this fellow sneezes

Snot flies out, wherever it pleases!’

.

‘And when he takes his wife to bed

He wears his socks and nothing else!’

.

‘Enough!’ called the judge, not sure if this was allowed

A blazing, public, private row.

He looked across to check the clock

And said ‘It’s time to put this to the vote’

The crowd still stood – all open mouthed

Having listened to all that had come out

Judge said ‘gentlemen, last words please,

On why the folks should vote for thee’

.

‘You simply cannot vote for him,

You can’t be sure just where he’s been!’

.

‘This position you cannot entrust,

To a man, who licks the mould off crusts!’

.

And so the debate there did end

And politics shown as a dirty game

.

Eagerly dispersed the crowd

Off to make their voices count.

And when all was said and done

Nobody could contest result

Not one ballot marked for either side

Because the town could not decide

After candidates brought into public view

Things we all pretend to never do;

So, it ended in a draw

As nobody wanted either/or

And why the County Corny vote

Became a ghastly political joke!

.

Just a bit of fun after I saw how Belloc’s opponent in Salford 1906 had a slogan ‘Don’t Vote for a Frenchman and a Catholic!’ I then just imagined a ridiculous personal degradation scenario, something slightly similar to the idea of Newman and Baddiel History Today.

©Please do not copy and edit, or reproduce without permission from the author (Abelia May) and full acknowledgement of the author (Abelia May) and website address

Haunted Highway Sixty Five (poem/lyrics)

It happened on a Sunday, when my father was just a young man

He’d arranged to meet, in a rustic town, a new business associate;

He stopped at a gas station, to admit that he was lost

An old man behind the counter pointed, today’s October thirty first

If you must head up that way, don’t you dare go there alone

For if the devil catch you, he’ll surely take your soul

.

My father thanked the man for his advice, but set off upon his way

That boy naively thinking, he’s too tough to be delayed,

But he soon grew weary, and thoughts had turned to bed

He hoped that he could find a place, where he could stop and rest

So, he slipped onto a side road off

that Highway Sixty Five

.

The road was rather winding, visibility almost nil

As a fog had swamped upon the earth, numbing with a chill,

That’s when he saw it, the warning of hazard lights

Flashing in the surrounding air, daring him to check it out

.

He walked over rather slowly, to a vehicle in a ditch

Driver and passenger, stuck in a nasty fix

And in all his living years, he never did get such a fright

As he leaned up to the windscreen, unprepared for that sight

This happened on a side road off

that Highway Sixty Five

.

The driver’s neck was limp, two fang marks on his throat

A stake rammed into his heart, blood seeping through his coat,

And in the seat beside him, a female face green of mould

Insects crawling out and in, she looked a century old

.

Then he heard a haunting voice, that chilled him to the bone

Calling from the shadows on, the other side of the road,

That faceless figure didn’t move, a devil’s torch shone from his mouth

So Father told he only came, to see if he could help out

.

He said “Son, you seem an honest boy, I may just let you be;

Just turn around, don’t travel alone, and forget everything you’ve seen

Or I shall have to find you, and by waking up the dead

I’ll make them sure to haunt you, so you’ll never be lonely in bed”

And this all happened on a side road off

that Highway Sixty Five

.

Next day at that meeting, my father was awful pale

He didn’t say what’d happened, only the place he’d been delayed

The associate said “Son I’ve lived here sixty years, and there is one thing I am sure;

Off the Six and Five Highway, there ain’t never been no side road”

.

Before my father died last year, he told me to never be afraid

To sing, live, laugh and love, and play these lyrics if I dare;

And every time I voice them, I know that faceless stranger may appear…,

But I figure now you’ve heard them too, he’ll just as likely come for you!

.

And if you ever travel, in a car alone

You know exactly the location, of where you shouldn’t go,

Cause this whole thing started on one creepy Halloween 

On the supposed side road off

that Highway Sixty Five

.

Apparently nobody read my last post. Not one person in the whole world was even the slightest bit bored or curious. It’s sad to be so dull.

©Please do not copy and edit, or reproduce without permission from the author (Abelia May) and full acknowledgement of the author (Abelia May) and website address

Haunted Highway Sixty Five (poem/lyrics)

It happened on a Sunday, when my father was just a young man

He’d arranged to meet, in a rustic town, a new business associate;

He stopped at a gas station, to admit that he was lost

An old man behind the counter pointed, today’s October thirty first

If you must head up that way, don’t you dare go there alone

For if the devil catch you, he’ll surely take your soul

.

My father thanked the man for his advice, but set off upon his way

That boy naively thinking, he’s too tough to be delayed,

But he soon grew weary, and thoughts had turned to bed

He hoped that he could find a place, where he could stop and rest

So, he slipped onto a side road off

that Highway Sixty Five

.

The road was rather winding, visibility almost nil

As a fog had swamped upon the earth, numbing with a chill,

That’s when he saw it, the warning of hazard lights

Flashing in the surrounding air, daring him to check it out

.

He walked over rather slowly, to a vehicle in a ditch

Driver and passenger, stuck in a nasty fix

And in all his living years, he never did get such a fright

As he leaned up to the windscreen, unprepared for that sight

This happened on a side road off

that Highway Sixty Five

.

The driver’s neck was limp, two fang marks on his throat

A stake rammed into his heart, blood seeping through his coat,

And in the seat beside him, a female face green of mould

Insects crawling out and in, she looked a century old

.

Then he heard a haunting voice, that chilled him to the bone

Calling from the shadows on, the other side of the road,

That faceless figure didn’t move, a devil’s torch shone from his mouth

So Father told he only came, to see if he could help out

.

He said “Son, you seem an honest boy, I may just let you be;

Just turn around, don’t travel alone, and forget everything you’ve seen

Or I shall have to find you, and by waking up the dead

I’ll make them sure to haunt you, so you’ll never be lonely in bed”

And this all happened on a side road off

that Highway Sixty Five

.

Next day at that meeting, my father was awful pale

He didn’t say what’d happened, only the place he’d been delayed

The associate said “Son I’ve lived here sixty years, and there is one thing I am sure;

Off the Six and Five Highway, there ain’t never been no side road”

.

Before my father died last year, he told me to never be afraid

To sing, live, laugh and love, and play these lyrics if I dare;

And every time I voice them, I know that faceless stranger may appear…,

But I figure now you’ve heard them too, he’ll just as likely come for you!

.

And if you ever travel, in a car alone

You know exactly the location, of where you shouldn’t go,

Cause this whole thing started on one creepy Halloween

On the supposed side road off

that Highway Sixty Five

.

Apparently nobody read my last post. Not one person in the whole world was even the slightest bit bored or curious. It’s sad to be so dull.

©Please do not copy and edit, or reproduce without permission from the author (Abelia May) and full acknowledgement of the author (Abelia May) and website address

Kiss me off (Lyrics)

Conscience is a modern sin,

Spending time discovering,

The things that are said

Don’t mean what they say

Security for comforting.

.

Actions speak as loud as words,

So why, can they, not be heard,

As the people lie

Their actions hide

Misleading from what’s inferred

.

But You are worst of all…

So close, it makes it worse…

.

Do you really want to kiss me off?

Do you really want to wave goodbye?

Do you really want the hurt inside,

I feel tonight,

Haunt us till we die…

.

Why did you think you could deceive?

Why did you think I would believe,

The tell tale signs

Of your sordid lies

Making me look naive?

.

When will you stop your childish games,

Controlling all within a frame,

Keeping me

From being free

While avoiding all the blame?

.

Yes, You are worst of all

So close, it makes it worse…

.

Do you really want to kiss me off?

Do you really want to wave goodbye?

Do you really want the hurt inside,

I feel tonight,

Haunt us till we die…

.

I wonder how much money people could make if they found me bands that could produce these like in my mind?! If we sold as many records as I get views, perhaps we’d get £10?! When the work is not viewed and shared, the artist loses hope, and the birth of new art ceases to be imagined

©Please do not copy and edit, or reproduce without permission from the author (Abelia May) and full acknowledgement of the author (Abelia May) and website address

The girl with a ladybird smile (Lyrics)

Isn’t it pretty?

Isn’t it fun?

See how the shiny red

Looks in the sun

The spots on the back

Show wishes been made

If you look closely

You’ll see there’s still space

.

Said the girl with a ladybird smile

And it’s a wonderful day to fly

.

Isn’t it pretty

Come sit a while

Look at the people

Passing me by

Don’t they look rushed

Some place to be

No time to stop

Try to be happy

.

Said the girl with a ladybird smile

And it’s a wonderful day to fly

.

Isn’t it pretty

Everything so new

Why don’t the people

Enjoy the view

Too much to say

No time to play

Isn’t it nice to be free

Being here makes me happy

.

Said the girl with a ladybird smile

And it’s a wonderful day to fly

.

When the work is not viewed and shared, the artist loses hope, and the birth of new art ceases to be imagined

©Please do not copy and edit, or reproduce without permission from the author (Abelia May) and full acknowledgement of the author (Abelia May) and website address

Colours of love (Lyrics)

I’m too afraid to say

I’ve made my mistakes

I’m too scared to see

When you look at me,

But bubbling under the surface

Emotions start to boil

And when I finally meet you

I’ll be bursting

the colours of love

.

Showering you in doting rain

Holding you in my embrace

Feeling – alive – again

.

You can’t tell the dawn chorus to be quiet

You can’t expect me to hide my truth

When the thought of seeing you

Begins in my heart a race;

Bubbling under the surface

Emotions start to boil

And when I finally meet you

I’ll be bursting

the colours of love

.

Showering you in doting rain

Holding you in my embrace

Feeling – alive – again

.

When the work is not viewed and shared, the artist loses hope, and the birth of new art ceases to be imagined)

©Please do not copy and edit, or reproduce without permission from the author (Abelia May) and full acknowledgement of the author (Abelia May) and website address

My dreamy ode to marmalade (Lyrics)

I had a little dream, I was the bear named Paddington, and this is the song that I sang:

.

Mr Brown always says

Good things come to those who wait,

He is not wrong, for each morning time

Breakfast is sitting there on my plate

.

Oh marmalade is a marvel

You learn to love the most

When you spread it in a sandwich

Or let it brighten up your toast!

.

But the important thing about breakfast

Is it isn’t just for one,

Which brings me to a troubling point

That’s really got me stumped:

Just how do they make enough marmalade

To feed to everyone?

.

Oh marmalade is a marvel

You learn to love the most

When you spread it in a sandwich

Or let it brighten up your toast!

.

I suppose Aunt Lucy loves to say

Each as to their own;

The meaning of which

Puzzles me a bit

And the answer remains unknown…

.

Like many things in London

They seem a mystery to me,

However…

I simply find it quite absurd

If people spread on lemon curd

When marmalade is just within their reach!

.

Oh marmalade is a marvel

You learn to love the most

When you spread it in a sandwich

Or let it brighten up your toast!

.

When the work is not viewed and shared, the artist loses hope, and the birth of new art ceases to be imagined)

©Please do not copy and edit, or reproduce without permission from the author (Abelia May) and full acknowledgement of the author (Abelia May) and website address