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Moody Blues

Melancholy Man lyrics

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Moody Blues – Melancholy Man lyrics

I'm a melancholy man, that's what I am,
All the world surrounds me, and my feet are on the ground.
I'm a very lonely man, doing what I can,
All the world astounds me and I think I understand
That we're going to keep growing, wait and see.

When all the stars are falling down
Into the sea and on the ground,
And angry voices carry on the wind,
A beam of light will fill your head
And you'll remember what's been said
By all the good men this world's ever known.
Another man is what you'll see,
Who looks like you and looks like me,
And yet somehow he will not feel the same,
His life caught up in misery, he doesn't think like you and me,
'Cause he can't see what you and I can see.



Lyrics taken from http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/m/moody_blues/melancholy_man.html

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    This song has a very special meaning for me. I became a Moody's fan in 1970, when I heard "The Story in Your Eyes". By 1972, when I graduated HS, I had every album memorized up to and including "7th Sojourn". The song is actually the middle of a trilogy that starts with "Dawning is the Day", and ends with the spoken poem "The Balance).

    A few years later, I was extremely depressed and suicidal. I was The melancholy man, but nobody knew except the singer (Mike Pinder); I felt he was speaking directly to me. In the midst of this, I took a long trip on my motorcycle, from California to Oregon. On the trip, I seriously thought about riding into a bridge abutment or off a cliff. My trip took me to Crater Lake. I was only camping, but for some reason couldn't find a spot. Before leaving, I stopped at the Lodge. Very $$$$ to stay there; in terms of my budget, it was on another planet.

    I decided to splurge, and went into the lounge - this was the 1970's, piano bars were very popular. The pianist played the usual stuff, music only, mostly the stuff of my parent's generation (for example, Dean Martin), which to me then was pure crap. But as I slowly nursed my Jack Daniels (as I said, I was treating myself), I heard a tune that sounded familiar, but off somehow. I stood next to the pianist, and asked him. He was probably in his mid-40s.

    The lounge was pretty empty, so we talked. He told me about how he had played in some bands, but could just never breakthrough, about how success in the music business was like winning the lottery, and he just hadn't, but he hadn't given up either. He took this gig because he got to stay in the lodge, in one of the most incredibly beautiful places on Earth, eat for free, and still manage to sock some money away for after the park closed in the winter.

    I asked if he had played "Melancholy Man", and he said yes. He hated the crap he was playing, and he said he just put it out there to see if anyone complained. He was a big Moody's fan. As we talked, he continued to play "old folks" music. Suddenly, he started playing the entire Qofb album, though extremely mellow versions. When he started the Dawn-Mm-Balance trilogy, I started crying. This was extremely embarrassing, yet, I couldn't stop, nor could I walk away, say into the men's room. The player motioned me to sit on the wide stool next to him, which hid me from view. Somehow, that brought me out of the worst depths of my depression, and throughout the rest of the trip, I never thought of running into a bridge abutment.

    A highball glass of Jack Daniels was probably about $2 then. I threw a $20 tip in his jar. If I'd had more, I probably would have put it in also. Over the last nearly 40 years, I've struggled with serious depression and suicidal thoughts. I've seen several mental health professionals in those years, but the $20 I spent in 1975 was the best treatment I ever got.

    This is an absolutely true story.
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    About a man who realizes his state of oneness with all that is, living on a primitive planet that doesn't yet. When the "stars" or illusions begin to dissolve, anger arises. His world is shattered and he seeks the reason why within. He begins to observe the ancient messages of the sages as logcal and as he does, he sees himself as a different person. He knows that its nly a matter of time for everyone to conclude the same but the waiting time makes him melancholy.
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