SEARCH THE CROWD
©Trev Teasdel Coventry April 1971
©Trev Teasdel Coventry April 1971
Think I’ll go down town,
To see who’s around
You know I’m feeling down,
Drag my feet along the ground
Search the sidewalk for a pound
That which is lost must be found
Gypsies selling lucky heather
My eyes are full of sidewalk hustlers.
Bus stop conversation debates the weather.
The bowed-down heads of hung up bustlers.
Charity tins chanting rhythms,
To the hurdy gurdy’s plaintive plea.
Search the crowd for her face
I need her here to comfort me.
Think I’ll bruise ‘round Woolworth’s,
Whilst the sun is hiding.
Browse through the record sleeves,
New releases I am seeking.
Searchin’ for someone to share a coffee with,
Meet a girl I used to know more than just vaguely,
But still searching for my lover’s face,
In this peaceless place.
Old friends criss-cross my path,
If they catch my gaze, I’ll smile they’ll laugh.
The market mongers personify,
Their lifeless goods.
Megaphone voices storm my brain.
Wishing away my ‘if only she woulds’.
My blistered blemished feet are lame,
Searching this faceless throng,
I see her face, no I am wrong.
(additional lyrics from a draft)
Just why did she leave without telling me?
Left it to a friend to impart it to me
The city sound penetrates your frame
when you’re feeling down.
Wonder what is her game
She just must be found
Search the crowd for her face, in this hell like place.
…………
Written in a café after walking downtown Coventry Precinct and being sold some lucky heather. I had in mind the atmosphere of Summer in the City by the Lovin’ Spoonful.
…………
Written in a café after walking downtown Coventry Precinct and being sold some lucky heather. I had in mind the atmosphere of Summer in the City by the Lovin’ Spoonful.