Carolyn, I can still feel you, taste you, I savour our sin. You said you never could tell John where you’d bin. Oh I still think of you Carolyn.
Carolyn, nothing to you perhaps but I’d so hoped to win Heaven forever and gold-plate this old heart of tin. Oh I still think of you Carolyn.
Carolyn, grinning like foolish schoolkids, too much to hold in. Silent and still until my tears dried on your skin. Oh I still think of you Carolyn.
Notes on: Carolyn (1980)
The attraction of this song is the little piano flourish immediately after the first word of each verse. It reminds me of something Paul McCartney said about George Harrison’s little guitar intro in “And I love her.” He said “Those four notes, that’s the whole song really.” It isn’t of course, but it sure sets up the whole song. I wrote this melody after I’d stopped writing songs, and never gave it much thought, but it is quite pretty so I remembered it. Originally that piano bit was actually just a repeat of the first word in the dominant key (“Carolyn, Carolyn, I can still…”), but that sounded corny. Then in about 2011 when I was experimenting with my first productions I decided to record it and I dropped the repeat and the piano bit just leapt out. Luck really.
I’m sure we’ve all had a Carolyn in our lives, someone way out of our class but who inspires an unrealistic hope within us. Ah, the crazy dreams we have of ourselves sometimes, and our lives as we could be with them. As the lyrics say, “Nothing to you perhaps but I’d so hoped to win, Heaven forever and gold-plate this old heart of tin.” Oh, the person I might have been with her. Now, alas…
Have you ever watched your tears dry on someone else’s skin? And as you watch you know that when the last traces have vanished it will be time to gather your belongings and move on, to shake the sand off, change out of your bathers and back into your jeans, and then head off home (in separate directions), perhaps never to intimately connect with that person ever again. Ain’t love grand!