Old Grey Moon

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IF I COULD LIVE ON OLD GREY MOON

If I could live on old, grey Moon, I would be watching pretty Earth,

Admiring first her blue, blue seas, then cotton clouds - her sandy and her green, lush lands,

Her poles of white, against the black.

And with the shadow of the night, the twinkle of her city lights -

Or, hung like chains, the mountain ranges, dusted off with snow.

I would not hear the grief, the war, I would not see the famine come,

I would not feel disease, nor smell the death it leaves behind -

I would not taste the poison waste of chemical industrialists -

Nor witness broken promises from politicians on the up,

Whose arguments spin round and round and in the end, come crashing down -

For none of this I'd know.

But.

If I could live on old, grey Moon, I think I'd miss a lot.

I'd miss a world of love affairs, and pretty girls from everywhere -

And cricket up at Lord's - and tea, with Lizabeth and Karol too,

But at the Ritz - no less would do. And concerts at the Albert Hall,

Where I once played on my trombone and in my mind, still do.

And climbing mountains out in Wales, amid lakes, waterfalls - and gales!

And pondering the origin of things, in pubs, with pals who knew no better than their gals

What they were on about, just bragged. Who cared? The main thing, having fun

And do no harm to anyone.

But.

If I could live on old, grey Moon, I'd wish the pretty Earth I see

Were not the home of poverty - of mind or need - so can't we be

More worthy? And with dogged perseverance,

We might live up to Earth's appearance!

ŠRichard Hill

If I Could Live on Old, Grey Moon [3:05] - soundscape composed by Richard Hill

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