This old Cannon

Waiting

Waiting on the shoreline, beneath the restless moon.

Watching the horizon, for invading sails to come.

And every time I see it, I feel the melancholy start

Because in that moonlit shadow lies, my first broken heart

There’s a dancehall just behind it, or there was some years past

And during summer holidays, I got to my first adult dance.

The clientele was older there and I felt out of place

Then across the floor I saw her, and her beautiful young face

She was standing in the corner, and I could plainly see,

With the looks that she was getting, she felt as out of place as me

Now folks you must forgive them, because a rarity in our town

In nineteen hundred seventy three, was a skin of chocolate brown

 

I pushed my way in through the crowd, and asked her out to dance

She glanced at me then took my hand and quietly said, thanks

There’s some oppressive smiles and nudges as we danced around the floor

So quickly we decided, and headed for the door

We walked down along the road, that headed towards the sand

When at last we reached the cannon, she gently took my hand.

 

Now I had chased the girls before, but it never did much harm

Because all I ever wanted, was a looker on my arm

Now as we sat and chatted, and then walked along the sand

I was overcome with feelings that I didn’t understand

Puppy love or first love, you can call it either one

But she created a romantic fool, with a kiss beside the gun

 

We met twice more beside the sea, then her holiday was done

I had daydreams all that summer, and my uncle making fun

About the Yankee colleen that he was going to teach to farm

But when he pushed me too far, then he hugged me in his arms

He smiled and winked and said to me, kid I know it hurts

You’ll be in love a plenty, but the first time is the worst

 

The days and years passed quickly we never met no more

I went on and happily made a good life of my own

I lived and loved and married, now have children and a wife

And I love them dearly, they mean more to me than life

But every time I pass that gun, still waiting by the sea

I pray that life has been as kind to Laura as to me.