The Road Will Run

Here's the picture from the second verse, together with Bear Road for those who don't know it...a very steep hill with lovely views over Brighton and the coast and country out to the west.

Bear Road on a cold December morning.

Sea and South Downs lit by icy sun.

Downhill between houses and allotments

From the racecourse to the crematorium.

Roll up, place your bets:  take one step and the next.

You reach to grasp the moment and it’s gone.

Along the shining shore, the road is all we are;

And through all we have to come, the road will run.

The road will run.

Two stripes and a smile for happy endings:

My father’s picture hanging by the door.

Caught and frozen, younger than my daughters,

Eyes alight and heading into war.

Hear the backbeat of his song, from 1941:

Every father’s still somebody’s son.

Dig your patch of ground, try to make them proud.

And when you’re dust and done, the road will run.

The road will run.

And, yes, I will leave the landing light on –

But you must always steer by your own stars.

Wheeling through the night to find new mornings,

Your road will take you on from ours.

From Clitheroe to Salisbury Plain to Brighton,

And two girls waiting for a London train.

The winter road as short days start to lengthen:

Ghosts are close and the living live again.

On a frozen New Year’s Eve, with the dog down on the beach,

Jogging seven steps to match my one.

Through the skull beneath his fur,

Through a good life’s golden blur,

Through its frankincense and myrrh,

Through all that we once were,

Through all we have to come, the road will run.

The road will run.

(listen here)