The Music That She Left Behind

Death is never far from us. It is more likely than not that someone you will meet today will have had a friend or relation who recently died. Sometimes death comes unexpectedly, as it did to the girl who begged someone to dance with her, in the nineteen seventies and wrote a sad song about it. 

Eventually someone does come to dance with every one of us and more likely than not starts up a romance with us. That has almost the statistical probability of death, and it is much more likely than not that someone who you will meet today has had a romance and has someone some where, someone who cares.

I found myself singing “Won’t somebody dance with me” on the second day of October this year. I could not remember all the words, just the haunting cello melody of the song, written by Lynsey de Paul, nearly two generations ago. I reached for the internet to hear the song again and found, almost straight away, a tribute version of the song from which learned that Lynsey de Paul had died just the day before.

I felt sad for her; she had written a handful of beautiful songs, not chart busters or anthems but important melodies which lighten the mind and make you feel happy, even if the song is sad. The important thing about her life is the music that she left behind.

I suppose in reality I felt sad for myself; Ms de Paul was born a year before me and her death reminded me of my mortality.

One Response


    Fame at last !

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