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Celebration

from A Kind of Circle by Jim Bryce

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about

A description of a wedding? A description of life with all its ups and downs? ... and glories.

lyrics

A church spire, the hour before noon.A voice singing wartime ditties in the other room.The beer gets slowly staler with every drunken tune
And there’s no room.

Another round of good-luck, another whispered sigh, a door that won’t stay open as the day begins to die,and the juke-box plays a song about a love that never diesand no surprise - you’d thought you’d try.

I offer you suicide, matricide.The bride awaits you with tinsel in your hand.Touch her fingers, there’s no more wishing in your plans.
Take her hand. Oh, take her hand !

Inside the vestibule, you stop to catch the tunes and the feeling comes upon you that you felt inside the room,but all your forgotten teachers saying ” Now’s no time for gloom ! You’ve been groomed ! You don’t believe it ? You’ve been groomed !”

The simpering smile, the sugared leaf, the slow handclap of acceptence now you’ve signed away your brief, but the stilettos of habit for the moment all are sheathed and it’s relief - it’s such relief.

I offer you love, endless promises. You take her by the hand down to your tinsel lovers’ land and for the moment, all your fantasies - those childish flames you’ve fanned - they’ve been banned.

From now, they’ll talk about innocence, the bright pretense. There’s no defence: “It’s a hard world,” they will say, but as they kiss your future, their eyes are turned away, but still they pray. Christ, they always pray !

The empty cup. The tainted wine, A youngster singing something ‘bout “the good old times” and the lines of faces nodding saying “That’s the the way it was” Because.....Because.....

I offer you suicide, homicide. The death’s head behind the veil mouths hallowed empty sounds, and in your heart you turn your love and promises around but you’ve been bound

I offer you conquest, inquest. The guests surround you with truth burning in their hands. All answers now are set and you survey your promised land but you feel damned - why is it you feel damned ?

Are you listening now ? Are you watching now? Passing round the photographs and asking yourself how you could deceive yourself by saying “face it anyhow” And do you now ?

I offer you grace, a change of face. All traces broken if you’re not afraid to die. You salve your wounds with your consciences, but still you want to cry, but you can’t cry.

The silent bells, the empty bed. You try to listen to the moment, but the future turns your head, so you stumble throught the corridors to face you only dread: You’ve been bled.

The moment missed, all movement feared. The endless sidesteps circling smaller through the years Till your spirit stands immobilised: no travellers come near And there’s no tears. There’s no more tears.

credits

from A Kind of Circle, released November 24, 2020
Jim Bryce; words and music, vocals, piano, organ.
Produced by Gerry Callaghan for Moreme.

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all rights reserved

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Jim Bryce Edinburgh, UK

Jim Bryce's music ranges from rockish to folkish to jazzish to music-hallish, to material which doesn't tick any boxes. He has also written for theatre, concert hall (squeaky and non- squeaky), film and radio programmes for the under nines.

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