FROM A SILENT TOWN (© Words and music by Paul F. Cowlan )

On Tuesday September 9th 2000 I completed twenty-five years ‘on the road’. So, by way of a reminder, this song dates from when I’d just moved down to Exmouth and registered as self-emping on his notepad. “Now you’ll be sure to let us know if it doesn’t work out won’t you?” Musical self-employment did work out. This particular romance didn’t.

That’s not the place for you to be.
Because I need you,
and want you close to me.

When I first came to this town
I knew what I had in mind.
I didn’t expect miracles,
but I wanted just to find you
somewhere in a house nearby,
living your life and letting the time go by.

The wooden stairway
wasn’t very far to climb.
The door was open.
I thought I’d chosen the right time.
But when I rang the bell
there was no-one around.
I waited and I waited,
but I never heard a sound.

Then downstairs a stranger came,
and told me that you’d gone away.
Why didn’t you say?
You might have known I’d look for you
among the first things I would do.
You could have left a word or two
to tell me where you were.

Your friends are kind, but they don’t really understand
that I am nearly through with dreaming about you.
The memories I held as only games to play when I was lonely
lose their meaning, without you.

From where I am to where you are is too many mornings,
but it doesn’t seem to matter any more.
So, when at last you’re home again
and your travelling is at an end
perhaps we’ll meet and, just as friends,
remember how we were.