Come All Me Young Darlings

A song I wrote some years ago for drunks and drinkers everywhere. That misunderstood breed of men - rogues and romantics, idlers and idealists, pugilists and poets, philanderers and philosophers, scoundrels and sages - but mostly good-hearted fellows, victims of the uncertainties of this cruel world. Here's to them all!

Come All Me Young Darlings

Come all me young darlings and listen awhile

For an old fool's about to address you

And I see from the way that you snigger and smile

That the prospect does not much impress you;

Though a drunken old tosspot I now might appear

It was not always so, I assure you, my dears,

So come gather round closely these words for to hear

Then I'll bid you goodnight and God bless you.

Well, once long ago there were dreams to be dreamed

for the world it seemed ready for changes,

There were bright golden days up ahead so it seemed,

We knew nothing of hardships and dangers,

And we sang our songs loud in the still of the night

And stood shoulder to shoulder to fight the good fight,

But some soon changed sides and then others took flight

Until now I'm left singing to strangers.

For time takes its toll and love takes its leave

And then loneliness soon takes to drinking,

To the telling of stories that no one believes

And to sitting in silence and thinking,

For I'm thinking of those that I once loved and knew,

And I'm thinking of things that I once thought were true,

And I'm thinking there's nothing at all I can do

As I wait for the sun to go sinking.

But hidden away in the back of my brain

There's a foolish yet beautiful notion,

I remember those islands once glimpsed from a plane

Like jewels in the grey northern ocean,

For the green fields of England shone gloriously

And just for one moment I thought I could see

That land fit for heroes where men could be free

From all troubles and pain and commotion.

So all you young darlings here with me tonight

Pay no heed to these tired words of warning,

If you know good from bad
                                                       if you know wrong from right

Maybe all will be well in the morning,

But for me the distinction's becoming unclear

For my eyes have grown bloodshot and dim with the years;

They've been dazzled by beauty

and blinded by tears.

So now goodnight,

and God bless you,

my darlings.

Take care.