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Graham Donachie's Stories
The Sixties Revisited

Just another memorie to share with you.. The Sixties...I'll never see the likes o' that again...What a majickal tyme it was when we were young....

The Sixties Revisited...

She was tiny and petite
and her eyes were surely Cleopatra blue.
They were wide and virgin pure
Hypnotised me,that's for sure,
with that stunning mesmerizing azure hue.

She was kitten-curvy in that special way..
And I wanted to be near her,
To listen and to hear her,
And to feel the ..
rock-hard strength of her hair-spray.

I was young and idealistic.
and was destined to be.. someone big in ‘art’ .
But my father was aloof.
For he thought I was a poof,
He railed against it like an old demonic fart.

In the sixties, I was at.. revolutions door,
And I wanted oh so much
for to feel the freedom touch..
And to jive ...
upon the local “Palais” floor.

It was on a winter night
when I went into my local ‘smoky caf ‘.
Met this mini-skirted lass,
The opportunity could’nt pass,
When I heard her shiny red lipped,
tinkling laugh.

Now I sexy-winked at her,
and she smiled a great big toothy back at me,
So I asked her, “dae ye dance” ?
“Wad ye like tae tak the chance“ ?
And I buzzed about all around her like a bee.

Now we both gyrated looking eye to eye,
To that new Pacemaking Mersey
screaming Sound...
I was very much alive,
But I must learn how to jive..
To impress this nice new bird that I had found.

Now I knew this saucy tart,
And into her cluttered bedroom, we did go,
And she showed me all her moves
And I got into her grooves
And she taught me things (about jiving) I did’nt know.

Now I learned all the steps
In that wee bed room, upon the old Glamis Road.
I was ready for to birl,
I was eager for to whirl
Like a Dervish wi’ the moves that she had showed.

So Saturday arrived,
and I dressed in all my latest modish gear.
With the slickest slim-jim tie
Sure to catch the roving eye,
Of the Pan Stick wearing lassies dancing here.

The place was crowding fast,
When the Beatles “OOOed”the dancing got quite mad.
Then I saw my hearts desire
And she set my blood on fire
But she was chatting to a spotty poncie lad.

So we went upon the floor,
And we jived to all the music of the Stones.
That night I got some action
And lots of “Satisfaction”.. jiving sure did jangle all my bones..

The Sixties was a tyme,
When the young like me, felt oh so much alive.
I remember that wee tart,
Wee fat nose, but great big heart,
In her bedroom when she taught me how to jive.

I was raucous and quite raw
In that wild decade of the Liverpudlian beat.
I would overdose on Coke,
Too many fags and too much smoke
Throwing up all over my winkle pickered feet.

But the Mersey beat was new
And this music revolution pulled us in.
We rebelled against the norm
We kicked up a Mod-Like storm,
We were all Small Faces in that far-off din....



Itchycoo Park...

sung by The Small Faces...1967..

O’er the bridge of sighs
To rest my eyes in shades of green
Under clear blue skies
To Itchycoo Park, that’s where I’ve been.

(What did you do there ?) I got high
(What did you feel there ?) Well, I cried
(But why the tears there ?) Tell you why..
It’s all too beautiful..
It’s all to beautiful.........

I feel inclined to blow my mind
Get hung up, feed the ducks with a bun
They all come out to groove about
When I search for fun in the sun...

I’ll tell you what I’ll do.. (What will you do ?)
I’d like to go there now with you
You can miss out school..(Won’t that be cool ?)
Why go to learn the words of fools....

(What will we do there ?) We’ll get high
(What will we touch there ?) We’ll touch the sky
(But why the tears there ?) I’ll tell you why....

It’s all too beautiful....
It’s all too beautiful........

Read other stories from Graham Donachie


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