Life is a fleeting light during which we stumble through darkness. Or something. Picture by Simon Crouch.

This piece was written in the days following a horrific assault on two friends of mine, a scene which I was the one of the first people to witness afterwards. The assault – premeditated by a gang hiding a crowbar – was so inexplicable that it was later featured on Crimewatch. But it was never resolved or explained and has always troubled me. This song isn’t about that situation – it more resembles an assault on me as a teenager by a gang with a cricket bat as they stole my mobile phone – but I’ve never really separated the two in my mind.

If I knew music, I could tell you the chords and percussion timings for this piece. I have performed it before and will record it one day. But for now, you’ll have to see how it works for you. It’s a dark but self-deprecating piece in the style of artists like the Doors and Pulp.

 

To Die In Your Arms
[rock ballad]

Shot, for my mobile phone
This is humiliation
Sorry you had to be here
I really should take more care
There’s a lot of crazy fuckers out there
And a lot of people who’ll be
Hurt by this much more than me, oh –

No, no, don’t cry over me:
To die in your arms is a more beautiful thing
Than ever to have lived has been;
No, don’t cry over me
To die in your arms is a more beautiful thing
Than ever I knew life could be.

Now I know we only met
Not a week ago yet
You and your boyfriend, I wouldn’t interfere
But I never thought it would all end here
To live is to risk, to love is to fear.
If only I’d ever learned
I never needed love in return.

No, please, don’t cry over me
To die in your arms is a more beautiful thing
Than ever to have lived has been
No, no, don’t cry over me
To die in your arms is a more beautiful thing
Than everything else I’ve been.

– Can you hear me?
Am I just dreaming you?
Ah, in death every delusion is true.

Listen – stop crying and listen:
Death is only tragedy
When all that life’s achieved and done
Falls to waste, is use to none
Find my works and set them free
Now they’re all that’s left of me, oh –

No, no, don’t cry over me
To die in your arms is a more beautiful thing
Than ever to have lived has been
No, no, don’t cry over me
To die in your arms is a more beautiful thing
Than waking up now from this dream

To die –

Fuck

© Ian Kennedy. Not to be reproduced without permission – email ian@iqkennedy.co.uk and I’ll be happy to oblige!

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