This Week's Song: The Mistake

Like many people, I too went through a musical journey as I was growing up. My songs took in various influences, from show tunes (such as Rogers and Hammerstein) through to the early Beatles. On the way, I hitched my horse to the Dylan Saloon. I haven't really left there since.

The Mistake was my attempt to write a Dylanesque song - unfortunately without the subtlety of the Master, but using the folk style (i.e. rhythmic meter) that he started his career with - the difference being that he became the legend he is, whilst I pursued other interests!

This is my very humble tribute to him.

The Mistake

In the streets of a city,
A man walks each day,
With a bag in his hand
And a scowl on his face.

And he walks to the subway
And pays the tube fair,
One hand in his pocket,
The other in his hair.

And he gets on the train
With a ticket in his hand,
Looking at the people
Trying not to stand.

When he gets to his stop,
He waits for the doors,
That open to his life
And close for his cause.

And he gets off the train,
He makes for the stairs,
The exit from the tube
And to who knows where?

And he gives in his ticket,
He walks to the light,
Waiting at the entrance,
Seeing what a sight.

And he walks out of there
With his bag still intact,
His face still as sad,
His pride's hit the sack.

And he gets to the flat,
Going in the lift,
Pressing number three,
Up there in a gist.

And he gets to the top,
He takes out his key.
He opens the flat,
He looks but doesn't see.

And he unlocks the door,
To the bedroom inside,
He looks at the man,
He looks at his bride.

With a flash of the hand,
And whip of the wrist,
He jumps on the bed,
And knocks him with a fist.

But the foe is too fast
For our hero it may seem,
He jumps off the bed
And runs from the scene.

How did he fail this time,
What did he do?

How could he fail this time,
What could he do?