A song to describe a moment: Mona Lisa and Mad Hatters

Now I know, "Spanish harlem" are not just pretty words to say.
I thought I knew, but now I know that rose trees never grow, in New York city.

It has been a while since I have turned on my radio.   Any radio.   A few days ago I did something that I hadn’t done in a while.

Until you’ve seen this trash can dream come true,
You stand at the edge, while people run you through.

 

Then, there was this morning.  It just happened.  The morning ride was relaxing and a familiar feeling was there.  Riding to work should be as familiar as anything.  Hell, I do it everyday.

And I thank the Lord, there’s people out there like you,
I thank the Lord there’s people out there like you.

I switched on the radio.  Out from the speakers came on this Elton John song.  THIS Elton John song.  I really thought of how much I had not heard of this song when I was a child. 

While Mona Lisas and mad hatters,
sons of bankers, sons of lawyers,
turn around and say, "good morning" to the night.
For unless they see the sky, but they can’t and that is why,
they know not if it’s dark out side or light.

Unlike other Elton John songs that I had fallen in love with as a child, this one hooked me later on in my life. It just happened one day as I was paging through a Elton John song book as I sat at my piano.

This Broadway’s got, its got a lot of songs to sing,
if I knew the tunes I might join in.

When I think of Elton John’s music (and the lyrics that accompanied them) from those songs of long ago, I often question what happened to his music, music in general, to the world, or just to my ears.

I go my way alone, grow my own,
my own seeds shall be sown, in New York city.

There is just something right about this song, and its words and music.  There is just something about it that resonates in me.

Subways no way , for a good man to go down,
Rich man can ride, and the hobo he can drown.

Old home, old neighborhood, old dreams, old loves… still beautiful in my mind. 

And I thank the Lord for the people I have found,
I thank the Lord for the people I have found.

And new.

While Mona Lisas and mad hatters,
sons of bankers, sons of lawyers,
turn around and say, "good morning" to the night.
For unless they see the sky, but they can’t and that is why,
they know not if it’s dark out side or light.

Yes, there is something in the song that resonates with me.   I promised myself that this week I would sit down with the song,  play it on my piano, and sing it. 

And now I know, "Spanish harlem" are not just pretty words to say.
I thought I knew, but now I know that rose trees never grow, in New York city.

This song needs to be sung.

Subways no way, for a good man to go down,
Rich man can ride, and the hobo he can drown.

Do songs ever make you tear up?

And I thank the Lord for the people I have found,
I thank the Lord for the people I have found.

I turned my radio up.

While Mona Lisas and mad hatters,
sons of bankers, sons of lawyers,
turn around and say, "good morning" to the night.
For unless they see the sky, but they can’t and that is why,
they know not if it’s dark outside or light,
they know not if it’s dark outside or light.