Elders Part III: My Uncle-In-Song

My favourite songwriters sing badly. 

There are two sides to that coin. 

Their barking gives the impression that they have lowered the bar for the rest of us, when in reality they have raised it. Because, like, if they can make an impact sounding like that then, like, you should totally go on X Factor.

I took great courage from his music. He wrote some songs which could have been penned at any point in history and he wrote some songs which could have come straight from his diary. 

He sang about love and death, sex and life, politics and religion. All the stuff his people, the English, didn't talk about, and yet somehow he was so very English. I admired his honesty. I envied his passion. I even sought out certain books because of the histories I had heard in his lyrics. 

He helped me to feel, made me think and helped me to make some very important life choices.

I loved his voice. And I knew he had the market cornered on locally accented singing. So I just walked straight under that sky-high bar, with a low guitar and a voice entirely mine.

Between The Wars (1985)
I was a miner
I was a docker
I was a railway man between the wars
I raised a family in times of austerity
With sweat at the foundry 
Between the wars

I paid the union and as times got harder
I looked to the government to help the working man
And they brought prosperity down at the armoury
"We're arming for peace me boys"
Between the wars

I kept the faith 
And I kept voting
Not for the iron fist but for the helping hand
For theirs is a land with a wall around it
And mine is a faith in my fellow man

Theirs is a land of hope and glory
Mine is the green field and the factory floor
Theirs are the skies all dark with bombers
And mine is the peace we knew 
Between the wars

Call up the craftsmen
Bring me the draughtsmen
Build me a path from cradle to grave
And I'll give my consent to any government
That does not deny a man a living wage

Go find the young men 
Never to fight again
Bring up the banners from the days gone by
Sweet moderation, heart of this nation
Desert us not
We are between the wars

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