Lyrics and Vocals: American country music singer-songwriter Alan Eugene Jackson.
I Leave A Light On.
Alan Jackson.
I do alright, most of the time. I’ve learned to move on, I’ve learned to get by, But sometimes I can’t find the reason to be free, So I leave a light on for your memory.
I leave a light on for your memory, So it will be easy to come back to me. When it’s late and I’m alone, I need some place to be, I leave a light on for your memory.
You found a new love and I’d like to believe, That you’re really better off without me. The good days have slipped away, but I sometimes dream, So I leave a light on for your memory.
I leave a light on for your memory, So it will be easy to come back to me. When it’s late and I’m alone, I need some place to be, I leave a light on for your memory. Yeah, when it’s late and I’m alone, I need some place to be. I leave a light on for your memory.
American pop singer, actress and one of the top-charting female vocalists of the late 1950s and early 1960s, Ms Concetta Rosa Maria Franconero, known professionally as Connie Francis, sadly passed away on Wednesday last, in Pompano Beach, Florida on July 16th 2025, at the age of 87 years.
During her career she was estimated to have sold more than 100 million records worldwide.
Ms Francis had recently been treated for pelvic pain, caused by a fracture and had been confined to a wheelchair.
Vocals: American singer the late Ms Connie Francis(1937 – 2025). (Sung to the melody of “Lara’s Theme” from the film Doctor Zhivago.) Lyrics: American lyricist and three time Academy Award winner the late Paul Francis Webster(1907 – 1984).
Somewhere My Love.
Somewhere, my Love, there will be songs to sing, Although the snow covers the hope of spring. Somewhere a hill blossoms to green and grow, And there are dreams all that your heart can hold. Someday we’ll meet again, my love, Someday whenever the spring breaks through. You’ll come to me out of the long ago, Warm as the wind, soft as the kiss of snow. Till then, my sweet, think of me now and then, God speed my love till you are mine, Till you are mine again. END
Ms Francis grew up in a working-class Italian American family in Brooklyn, New York. She started playing the accordion at the age of three, encouraged by her father. By the time she was a teenager, she had changed her name from Concetta Franconero, to Connie Francis.
During her early career she was turned down by almost every record label; only securing a contract with MGM Records, because her demo song, ‘Freddy‘, happened to be the name of the then president’s son. She would go on to sell millions of records in multiple dialects, including teen hits like ‘Lipstick On Your Collar‘ and ‘Everybody’s Somebody’s Fool‘.
Following being beaten and raped at knife point in 1974 at her motel, at the Westbury Music Fair in New York, she became a recluse, spending several spells in psychiatric hospitals. At her lowest point, she attempted suicide using sleeping pills. She later won $1.5 million lawsuit against the Howard Johnson’s motel chain, for failing to provide safe locks on the glass door through which her attacker entered.
Ms Francis had just begun her return to the stage in 1981, when her younger brother George Franconero, who had testified against the Mafia, was shot to death in front of his house. This event plunged her deeper into depression, leaving her to spend much of the next decade receiving treatment, during which time she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.
She would go on to become an outspoken voice within victim advocacy groups, including Women Against Rape, and the Victims’ Assistance Legal Organisation, and became a spokesperson for Mental Health America.
Lyrics: American singer, guitarist, songwriter, actor and activist William Hugh Nelson and American country music songwriter and record producer Buddy Cannon. Vocals: American singer Willie (Hugh) Nelson.
92-year-old Willie Nelson.
Still Not Dead.
I woke up still not dead again today. The internet said I had passed away. But if I died I wasn’t dead to stay, And I woke up still not dead again today. Well, I woke up still not dead again today. The gardener did not find me that a way. You can’t believe a word that people say, And I woke up still not dead again today. I run up and down the road making music as I go. They say my pace would kill a normal man, But I’ve never been accused of being normal anyway, And I woke up still not dead again today. I woke up still not dead again today. The news said I was gone to my dismay. Don’t bury me, I’ve got a show to play, And I woke up still not dead again today. I run up and down the road making music as I go. They say my pace would kill a normal man. But I’ve never been accused of being normal anyway, And I woke up still not dead again today. Last night I had a dream that I died twice yesterday, But I woke up still not dead again today.
British poet, comedian, songwriter and radio/television presenter MsPam Ayres
They Should Have Asked My Husband. Poem courtesy of the masterly facetious Ms Pam Ayres.
You know, this world is complicated and imperfect and oppressed, And it’s not hard to feel timid, apprehensive and depressed, It seems that all around us, tides of questions ebb and flow, And people want solutions, but they don’t know where to go.
Opinions abound but who is wrong and who is right? People need a prophet, a diffuser of the light, Someone they can turn to as the crises rage and swirl, Someone with the remedy, the wisdom, the pearl…
Well they should have asked my husband, he’s a man who likes his say, With his thoughts on immigration, teenage mums, Theresa May, The future of the monarchy, the latest Brexit shocks, The wait for hip replacements, and the rubbish on the box.
Yes, they should have asked my husband, he can sort out any mess, He can rejuvenate the railways, he can cure the NHS, So any little niggle, anything you want to know, Just run it past my husband, wind him up and let him go.
Congestion on the motorways, free holidays for thugs, The damage to the ozone layer, refugees, drugs, These may defeat the brain of any politician bloke, But present it to my husband, he will solve it at a stroke.
He’ll clarify the situation, he will make it crystal clear, You’ll feel the glazing of your eyeballs and the bending of your ear, You may lose the will to live, you may feel your shoulders slump, When he talks about the President, Mr. Donald Trump.
Upon these areas he brings his intellect to shine, In a great compelling voice that’s twice as loud as yours or mine, I often wonder what it must be like to be so strong, Infallible, articulate, self-confident and wrong.
When it comes to tolerance, he hasn’t got a lot, Joy riders should be guillotined, and muggers should be shot, The sound of his own voice becomes like music to his ears, And he hasn’t got an inkling that he’s boring us to tears.
My friends don’t call so often, they have busy lives I know, But it’s not every day you want to hear a windbag suck and blow, Google? Safari? On them we never call, Why bother with computers…when my husband knows it all.
Lyrics: American singer, songwriter, musician, bandleader and activist Ms Emmylou Harris and American songwriter and singer Mr William Thomas Danoff(Starland Vocal Band). Vocals: Irish actress, singer, Laurence Olivier Award winner, three time BAFTA Award winner and an Academy Award nominee, the extremely attractive and talented Ms Jessie Buckley.
Boulder To Birmingham.
[Incidently, the distance between Boulder and Birmingham USA is 1294.8 miles by road.]
Ms Jessie Buckley.
I don’t want to hear a love song. I got on this airplane just to fly, And I know there’s life below me, But all that you could show me, Was the prairie and the sky. And I don’t wanna hear a sad story, Full of heartbreak and desire. Last time I felt like this, I was in the wilderness and the canyon was on fire. I stood on the mountain, In the night and I watched it burn, I watched it burn, I watched it burn. I would rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham. I would hold my life in his saving grace. I would walk all the way from Boulder to Birmingham, If I thought I could see, I could see your face. Well, you really got me this time, And the hardest part is knowin’ I’ll survive. I’ve come to listen for the sounds, Of the trucks as they move down, Out of ninety five, And pretend that it’s the ocean, Runnin’ down to wash me clean, to wash me clean, Baby, don’t you know what I mean? I would rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham. I would hold my life in his saving grace. I would walk all the way from Boulder to Birmingham, If I thought I could see, I could see your face. I would walk all the way from Boulder to Birmingham, If I thought I could see, I could see your face, If I thought I could see, I could see your face.
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