Walk Away
"A black and white photograph-Chris Difford
Of me up the garden path
Wrapped up in my football scarf
It sits here in my hand
And there mother smothered me
And how she would mother me
She knew how to suffer me
Like all mothers can
Now she is everywhere
The comb that runs through my hair
My posture on a chair
But that’s not who I am
He ran from the arguments
And sat on the garden fence
And lived in the passing tense
That fell from her lips
He tended the house so well
And each time she rang his bell
He’d climb back from where he fell
And gathered his wits
Now I fear the mold is mine
A vibration shakes my spine
As I walk the crooked line
Reality hits
So let me walk free from you
You know that you want me to
Let me try something new
Let me walk away
If it’s not one thing it’s your mother
How I love her
But it’s not so easy to say
Please won’t you let me walk away
So let me walk on my own
And finish my ice cream cone
If we are to make it home
Then all will be well
Look see I’m a father now
I’m raising my own eyebrow
And being in my own row
And making life hell
This is me, see here I am
Doing the best that I can
This life has a subtle plan
But you couldn’t tell"
posted by hechess at 2.3.05
2 Comments:
cd: they [my parents] were quite distant from me. my two brothers are much older. i was a bit of a last minute addition, so i had a lot of time to myself. my mum and dad had already had two boys and probably thought, "we've had enough here. we'll just let chris get on and do what he wants." so i would just sit and amuse myself, which is where my imagination comes from.
my parents were quite distant and didnt understand why i wanted to be a musician. they said that my musical career would never take off, but when i look at their attitude they had no tools to be any different because they took their information from their own parents. ultimately their parents were victorian people who thought that children should be seen not heard, so they handed down a muted way of conecting with their children. it's difficult to rebel against that gene which is so strong in people. it's passed down inside you, a chemical almost that you can't dispel. now that they have passed on i can see that properly, but i dont hold it against them the slightest.
what i have learnt from that is how to deal with my children. i try to be as open with them as possible. when i went home after taking acid my father wanted to lock me up because he didnt know how to deal with it. i'd deal with that very differently if it was my son. although i dont live with my children, which i'm sad about, i still hope that i can communicate with them at a better level than my parents did with me.
the lyric starts 'a black and white photograph/of me up the garden path'...
CD: that is a very important picture. the most important person in my life is that boy because he had nothing to worry about in his life. He was young. he did not understand fear, remorse, or heartache, or even what love was. he had an imagination that would go on for miles and miles. the other interesting thing about that photograph is that i've got an ice cream in one hand and a toy bus in the other. that is a kid who is an addict and wants it all. he wants the bus for being a good boy and he wants the ice cream, also for being a good boy. that is exactly how my personality developed...
Squeeze - Song by Song, pg. 208-209
thanks anon, i really appreciate this! i bought the book recently but i dont believe i've reached walk away yet. upon reading this it's funny how much in common i've discovered i have with difford. funnier, it wasn't until yesterday that i actually developed a greater appreciation for this lyric.
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