Original idea: Marloes Sands, Saturday 25th July
A sad story, I’m afraid; but I can’t do anything about the words which come to me.
…And, in any case, there’s a tentatively positive possibility in the last two lines.
Anyone is welcome to take this song and do what they like with it; I have checked that each line scans, but I’ve only the vaguest of ideas about a suitable tune – so over to you for that.
Keep scrolling down for the original transcripts from my pocket recorder: the lyrics have changed quite a lot since then!
HAVE YOU HEARD ABOUT THAT GIRL?
28th July 2020
A sad song needing a tune
When the Coastguard comes home silent, something’s wrong:
We’re used to her stringing words, as she works out a song;
Or, carrying across the dunes like the down of thistles
We might hear a wind-blown tune from her silver whistle.
But this morning our Coastguard’s face was a ghostly grey;
Hers was the walk of someone who’s lost their way.
I saw that her shoulders bore the weight of the world…
With a deep sigh she asked, ‘Have you heard about that girl?’
Chorus
Have you heard about that girl…? My friend, it’s nobody’s fault:
No matter how we tried, she never wanted to talk.
Have you heard about that girl…? It seems to me
She was a happy loner, who knew she had a friend in the sea.
The Coastguard lady hadn’t spoken her name;
But I knew who she meant, knew it just the same.
And her eyes, her eyes, kept looking back to the sea…
The Atlantic must be at the heart of the tragedy.
We had last seen her spark-fairy dancing, twelve hours ago
All around the wind-whirling embers of the fireworks show;
While everyone else was trudging for their homes,
She flew off the other way, out over the dunes.
Chorus
It’s been wild all week, with the sort of waves
That swimmers won’t risk, not even the brave;
But whatever the weather, you can take it from me –
So many times every day, that girl would go to talk with the sea.
She believed she and the ocean spoke so spiritually,
Same as folk who say they really understand trees:
And although she’d wave hello, walking past so fast –
She never ever stopped to try and talk with me.
Chorus
They can’t trace any family, or find any friends;
In her little shack there are just odds and ends
And under the jars of sea glass and carved driftwood,
A sheaf of poems, all so wonderfully good.
But now this evening, out on the point where she’d always go,
Any time, day or night, in sun or rain or snow…
A little book has turned up, stranded by the tide:
‘How to speak Mermaid – a Beginner’s Guide’
Chorus
© Christopher Jessop 2020
