A short story, hidden amongst the spacious guitars and swirling organ.

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Much of what seems to be written by many songwriters is first / second person perspective (I, you). Thought I'd have a crack at third person perspective, by writing about a few characters and trying to put them together into a loose 'storyline'.

A little background for those intrigued by the story...

It's the aftermath of a disastrous relationship between 'the pilot' and 'Miss Allen'. He tried to cope by turning to the bottle, eventually losing his job and all his friends except Doctor Owen. She went through a long period of homelessness and mental health problems ('Saint John' is her counsellor). The chorus is purely metaphorical, but tries to make the point that she saw the breakup coming and eventually initiated it. Years later, he still can't move on.

Miss Allen frets, 'cos she's out of cigarettes
Sings to herself when she can't be heard
She knows the tune
But she don't know the words

Says that she spent the Ice Age in a cave
Saint John says 'I think that's a pity'
She just replies
'Well,it was better than the city'

She saw the wind dash down those paper lanterns
She saw the river wash them away
She lit the fire, but he walks into the ashes
Everyday

It's getting late, Doctor Owen should be going
But the pilot grabs his arm and he buys another round
He'd like to explain
About the sky and the ground

And the life that he led and the planes overhead
That the pilot once flew before Scotch replaced water
He thinks of Miss Allen
And the ring he once bought her

She saw the wind dash down those paper lanterns
She saw the river wash them away
She lit the fire, but he walks into the ashes
Everyday