"But everyone's story begins once upon a time, and it's up to us to cherish the time we're given to ensure we live happily ever after." Scarlet Witch Avenger's Fairy Tales

 

"When I was a child I was a dreamer. I read comic books, and I was the hero of the comic book." Elvis Presley

"While we're living, the dreams we have as children fade away." Oasis

"Face front true believer." Stan Lee

"I've been writing all along and I've been doing it in pictures." Jack Kirby

...between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis...

more mighty marvel mayhem

Deja Vu

I bought my first 7" record in September 1973. I was ten years old.
It was the Sweet's 'Ballroom Blitz'. I went out the next day to buy two more; 'Angel Fingers' by Wizzard and 'Life On Mars?' by David Bowie. That was only the beginning.

Glam rock gave pop back to the kids after years of progressive rock doodling and fret-wank. To many it was a beacon of light in a country that was literally in the dark.

In most respects glam rock is totally fake, but to young kids like me it was real and alive. It may have been 'Brickies in eyeliner' but to the kids it was 'stardust for the dudes'.

Of course I am looking back on all this from the perspective of a 53 year old man; wife, children and all that comes with it, but sometimes when I play the old records I am ten years old again and it's perpetually 1973. So I guess I will always have my rose tinted specs firmly on when looking back at that time.

I have loved other music with a greater passion since, but not with the same youthful joy, or with such a sense of longing and nostalgia when I hear it played. And now 43 years after buying that first single I sit here writing this.

"Are you ready Steve? Aha!
Andy? Yeah!
Mick? OK!
Alright fellas, lets go"

Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud

Solemn faced

The village settles down

Undetected by the stars

And the hangman plays the mandolin before he goes to sleep

And the last thing on his mind

Is the Wild Eyed Boy imprisoned

'Neath the covered wooden shaft

Folds the rope

Into its bag

Blows his pipe of smolders

Blankets smoke into the room

And the day will end for some

As the night begins for one

Staring through the message in his eyes

Lies a solitary son

From the mountain called Freecloud

Where the eagle dare not fly

And the patience in his sigh

Gives no indication

For the townsmen to decide

So the village Dreadful yawns

Pronouncing gross diversion

As the label for the dog

Oh "It's the madness in his eyes"

As he breaks the night to cry:

"It's really Me

Really You

And really Me

It's so hard for us to really be

Really You

And really Me

You'll lose me though I'm always 

really free"

And the mountain moved its eyes

To the world of realize

Where the snow had saved a place

For the Wild Eyed Boy

from Freecloud

And the village Dreadful cried

As the rope began to rise

For the smile stayed on the face

Of the Wild Eyed Boy 

from Freecloud

And the women once proud

Clutched the heart of the crowd

As the boulders smashed down from the mountain's hand

And the Magic in the stare

Of the Wild Eyed Boy said

"Stop, Freecloud 

They won't think to cut me down"

But the cottages fell

Like a playing card hell

And the tears on the face

Of the Wise Boy

Came tumbling down

To the rumbling ground

And the missionary mystic of peace/love

Stumbled to cry among the clouds

Kicking back the pebbles

From the Freecloud mountain

Track.

Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud - David Bowie 1969

The Circle Game

Yesterday a child came out to wonder

Caught a dragonfly inside a jar

Fearful when the sky was full of thunder

And tearful at the falling of a star

And the seasons they go round and round

And the painted ponies go up and down

We're captive on the carousel of time

We can't return we can only look behind

From where we came

And go round and round and round

In the circle game

Then the child moved ten times round the seasons

Skated over ten clear frozen streams

Words like, when you're older, must appease him

And promises of someday make his dreams

And the seasons they go round and round

And the painted ponies go up and down

We're captive on the carousel of time

We can't return we can only look behind

From where we came

And go round and round and round

In the circle game

Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now

Cartwheels turn to car wheels through the town

And they tell him,

Take your time, it won't be long now

Till you drag your feet to slow the circles down

And the seasons they go round and round

And the painted ponies go up and down

We're captive on the carousel of time

We can't return we can only look behind

From where we came

And go round and round and round

In the circle game

So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty

Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true

There'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty

Before the last revolving year is through

And the seasons they go round and round

And the painted ponies go up and down

We're captive on the carousel of time

We can't return, we can only look behind

From where we came

And go round and round and round

In the circle game

And go round and round and round

In the circle game

Joni Mitchell 1970

Those Were The Days

Through the door there came familiar laughter

I saw your face and heard you call my name

Oh my friend we're older but no wiser

For in our hearts the dreams are still the same

Those were the days my friend

We thought they'd never end

We'd sing and dance forever and a day

We'd live the life we choose

We'd fight and never lose

Those were the days, oh yes those were the days.

Mary Hopkin 1968

The Faces - Love Lives Here

It's hard to believe that this is the place

Where we were so happy all our lives.

Now so empty inside and feelin' no pain

Waitin' for a hammer and a big ball and chain.

They can tear it all down and build something new

Then only I'll remember what was here.

Tomorrow comes easy, just another day gone

How long will I have to keep returning?

Now I look back, think I've known all the time

I've been fightin' myself for so long.

All the vows that we made, gone for old rags and lumber.

Disappear on a cart down the road.

The Faces 1971

And there came a day unlike any other...