Song Lyrics Sunday – Breaking up and Making up.

The Song Lyric Sunday Challenge this week is to post a song about breaking up.

Click on the link below to see Jim Adam’s post and to take part in the challenge.

https://jimadamsauthordotcom.wordpress.com/2021/07/17/heartbreaker/

In doing my research I realised that there are probably as many songs about heartache and breaking up as there are about falling in love in the first place! That shows that it pretty much happens to everyone at some point.

I wanted to be particularly thorough with this subject and nobody did break up songs quite as well as Fleetwood Mac. Both “Go your Own Way” and “Dreams” were both about the break up of Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham. Lindsey Buckingham wrote “Go your own way” and Stevie Nicks wrote “Dreams” and knowing that their ex partner would have to perform it with them! Revenge is bitter and sweet!. They must have been incandescent with rage when writing them.

Lyrics – Written by Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac. Released in 1977.

Now here you go again, you say you want your freedom
Well, who am I to keep you down?
It’s only right that you should play the way you feel it
But listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness

Like a heartbeat drives you mad
In the stillness of remembering what you had
And what you lost
And what you had
And what you lost

Oh, thunder only happens when it’s raining
Players only love you when they’re playing
Say, women, they will come and they will go
When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know
You’ll know

Now here I go again, I see the crystal visions
I keep my visions to myself
It’s only me who wants to wrap around your dreams
And have you any dreams you’d like to sell?
Dreams of loneliness

Like a heartbeat drives you mad
In the stillness of remembering what you had
And what you lost
And what you had
Oh, what you lost

Thunder only happens when it’s raining
Players only love you when they’re playing
Women, they will come and they will go
When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know

Oh, thunder only happens when it’s raining
Players only love you when they’re playing
Say, women, they will come and they will go
When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know
You’ll know
You will know
Oh, you’ll know

Lyrics – Written by Lindsey Buckingham. Released in 1976

Loving you
Isn’t the right thing to do
How can I ever change things
That I feel

If I could
Maybe I’d give you my world
How can I
When you won’t take it from me

You can go your own way
Go your own way
You can call it
Another lonely day
You can go your own way
Go your own way

Tell me why
Everything turned around
Packing up
Shacking up is all you want to do

If I could
Baby, I’d give you my world
Open up
Everything’s waiting for you

You can go your own way
Go your own way
You can call it
Another lonely day
You can go your own way
Go your own way

You can go your own way
Go your own way
You can call it
Another lonely day
Another lonely day
You can go your own way
Go your own way
You can call it
Another lonely day

You can go your own way
You can call it
Another lonely day
You can go your own way

But anyone who knows me, knows I like to finish on a positive note and so I chose this song performed by the Ronettes in 1964 ” The Best part of Breaking up is when you’re making up”.

Lyrics

Baby when we break up from a quarrel or a fight
I can’t wait to have you back and hold you oh so tight
Tell me why, I want to know oh oh
Tell me why is it so oh oh

That the best part of breaking up is when you’re making up
Best part of breaking up is when you’re making up
But after breaking up, be sure you’re making up with me

Everytime you leave, I get those teardrops in my eyes
But they seem to go away when you apologize
Tell me why, I want to know oh oh
Tell me why is it so oh oh

That the best part of breaking up is when you’re making up
Best part of breaking up is when you’re making up
But after breaking up, be sure you’re making up with me

C’mon baby, c’mon baby
Don’t say maybe
Well it makes no difference who was wrong
Just as long as I’ll be with you

Baby I’ll be lonely til you’re back where you should be
But baby I belong to you and you belong to me
Tell me why, I want to know oh oh
Tell me why is it so oh oh

That the best part of breaking up is when you’re making up
Best part of breaking up is when you’re making up
But after breaking up, be sure you’re making up with me
The best part of breaking up is when you know you’re making up with me

C’mon baby, c’mon baby
Don’t say maybe

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: P. Spector / P. Andreoli / V. Poncia Jr.

I hope you enjoyed my choice of music today, hopefully nobody can say I haven’t been thorough! 🙂

I have also included the following word prompts:

https://fivedotoh.com/2021/07/18/fowc-with-fandango-thorough/

A Multi Prompt Short Story – Happy Families.

I thought it high time that this story I wrote a couple of years ago received another airing, particularly as the Word of the Day today is Incandescent.

This story was written in response to the following word prompts.

Word of the Day: Woebegone

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/07/15/woebegone/

INCANDESCENT

Shery’s One Daily Prompt: Scorn

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/07/15/your-daily-word-prompt-scorn-july-15th-2018/

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/07/15/three-things-challenge-15-july-2018/

Today’s things are: great-aunt, ant, plant

Happy Families

It had been a while since I’d been to the family homestead. It was a rambling clapperboard house that at one time housed two extended families. Now only Mother lived there all alone. Walking up the pathway I passed plant after plant that was withering and dying in that long hot summer. It had been months since we’d had any rain.

The door creaked just like it always did as I pulled it open and walked into the relative coolness of the dark hallway. It smelt of wood and beeswax. All the wooden furniture was polished to an incandescent shine. I felt a bite on my ankle. Looking down I saw a solitary ant climbing my bare leg, which I promptly squashed beneath my fingertips. The long hot dry summer had brought out a lot of ants lately. God, how I’ve prayed for rain.

“Mama, where are you? It’s me Laura” I called out, my voice echoing around the practically empty dwelling.

“Laura, is that you? I’m upstairs dear, In Aunty’s room.”

There were a lot of bedrooms upstairs that were practically untouched, except for dusting, since the previous occupants had departed. Her Great-Aunt Sally had lived in the bedroom at the very end of the landing and for the last few years of her life had rarely left it. It was still full of all her knickknacks and memorabilia.

I walked in to find my Mother sitting on the bed crying. I sat next to her and put my arm around her.

“There, there Mama. Great Aunt Sally’s been dead twenty years, why are you carrying on so?”

“No, it’s not that. There was a storm last night and it blew over that old tree, the one that your Grandfather planted not long after he bought this place.”

I still couldn’t understand why she sounded so woebegone. All this fuss about a tree. I couldn’t help feeling some scorn. It was a lovely tree, but It was only seventy years or so old, not really that old as trees went. I gave Mama another hug, but she pushed me away.

“You don’t understand. There was a body buried there, under that tree. The storm brought it to the surface. It was wrapped in a tarpaulin, but it was unrecognisable. There was a locket with it and in it was this key.”

I looked down at the small, ornate brass key in my Mothers frail old hand.

“What was the key for? It’s too small to be for a door.”

“It was the key to this box. No one could open it when she died but we didn’t think there was anything important in it. Not enough to force it open.”

I remembered the beautiful small box, inlaid with scented sandalwood, that now lay on the floor, open.

Also, on the floor, lying as if it had just fallen from my Mothers hand, was a small leather-bound book. The kind used for keeping a diary or perhaps notes and recipes in.

I reached down and picked up the book. I recognised the highly ornate handwriting from birthday cards I had received as a young child. It was Great Aunt Sally’s writing.

She had written. ‘Why I killed my Sister today.’

The End.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 15/July/2018