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david m. bailey: Music & Lyrics

Autobiography-Work in Progress

(david m. bailey)
david m. bailey
My Grandma she was English, Grandpa was a Scott.
My name sounds like Irish, but clearly I do not
I was born one rainy night beside the rivers three. Before a year had passed I was far across the sea
My daddy was a mission man, together with his wife Packed our bags and headed out to start a brand new life
First we flew to London, then we flew to Greece. Had a one way ticket to the Paris of the East.
The plane finally landed in the land where the cedars grow.
On a narrow street along the coast is where we made our home
And I can remember the smell of the wind.
The crash of the waves, the salt on my skin.
And I can remember the street called red.
The sound of the cars, the smell of the bread.
I was a child, that was my home. With all of my friends I was never alone
Places we went, games that we played. Rules that we broke, memories we made, ah, the memories:
My best friend was my hero, taught me how to take a chance.
My girlfriend was a sweetheart; she taught me how to dance
We were so young, young but not naïve.We felt the dread of night and we learned how to believe
We believed in each other, we believed in our youth.
We believed that our passion would lead us to truth
We believed in the future, we believed in the past.
We believed that our memories always would last.
Then came the day when the sky turned black.
We hid in the hallways and heard the attack.
Guns on the corner, Guns up above.
All come to crucify this land that we loved.
Everybody had to figure out how they were going to cope.
With the presence of fear and the absence of hope.
Some people took to drugs, some people took to drink.
Feelings were ferocious and it hurt too much to think.
I picked up bullets from the rooftops, shrapnel from the shore.
After every battle, I went back for more.
It was a strange kind of balance between danger and delight.
We could get around the roadblocks but the end was out of sight.
Then I learned to play guitar, I started writing songs.
I sang them with a passion deep and wide and strong.
The times were touch and go but we made the choice to stay.
Until I got picked up and held hostage for a day.
We left the very next morning, past where the snipers were.
On up to the mountains, destiny, unsure
And I can remember the sweet scent of pine.
And my little blue bag with the things that were mine.
And I can remember looking down through the smoke.
At my city below, burning like a bad joke

Still just a child, but growing up fast.
Wondered how long the journey would last:
I got a ride on a very big ship to the island I knew well.
The journey was uncertain but I figured time would tell
Sometimes Time will whisper. Sometimes Time will shout.
Sometimes Time is silent, this time there was no doubt
I woke up as a stranger in the forest known as Black.
I did not burn my bridges but could not find my way back
So I learned a different language, I made some different friends.
On weekends I would hitchhike off to other foreign lands
I sang for my supper on a score of city streets.
Sometimes the nights were bitter but the company was sweet
I was more than a child, and I wanted to be A little bit wild and totally free.
Places I went, the songs that I played. The people I met, the memories I made, Ah the memories
I drank some wine in Paris, in Munich I drank Beer. Coffee in the Alps where the air was thin and clear
There was a sunny day in Florence and a rainy day in Rome.
And that train I took to Zurich that got me half-way home, half way
2 years had passed since I left my city by the sea. 2000 miles later I was still looking for me.
No longer a child, but not nearly grown. I didn’t know where I should call home
With so many roots in so many towns. My passport it was blue but my heart was brown
In the summer of my 18th year I was on another flight; West into the sunset, on into the night,
I did the college thing, 4 years and one degree. Found a real good job but lost the best of me.
Like so many others, I lost a faith in what I knew. Made a lot of noise but didn’t follow through.
Fell in love with a lady, gave her a golden ring.
As I found my way, she became my everything.
Along came a baby girl, then a baby boy. I was on top of the world They were my pride and joy.
Halfway up the ladder, my eyes set on the next rung, I lost my head, fell down instead back to where I’d begun
**That was many years ago; a lot has changed since then.
Took a hundred heartaches but I'm singing once again Not just for my supper but because of Who I am.
I've seen the long dark night And I think I understand.
No matter what you live through Or how you survive.
At the end of every day If you are still alive.
The choice is always yours; to share or to withhold. love and dream be meek or bold.
So I thank the Lord above for this life that's come to me.
And that part of me that never left my city by the sea…
And there you have my story, More curious than some.
But you too have a story about where you are from
About the places you have been and the things that you have done.
About the people you have lost and the battles you have won
And you can remember your first day of school.
The day that you knew You were nobody’s fool
And you can remember that summer romance.
Your very first kiss and you very first dance.
When you were a child, dreams were real. You knew what you thought, You know how to feel.
But as the years passed, too many dreams died. The hardest are those you never tried
I”ll leave one reminder, something everybody knows. This chapter is not over, this book has not been closed
A new page is being written as you listen to this song. It’s not too late to start what you have put off for so long So turn your face to the sun and keep on keeping on