I can’t stop listening to Kate Bush’s Jig Of Life.
“This moment in time,”
(She said.)
It doesn’t belong to you,”
(She said,)
It belongs to me,“And to your little boy and to your little girl,
And the one hand clapping:
Where on your palm is my little line,
When you’re written in mine
As an old memory?
Ooh, na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-“Never, never say goodbye
To my part of your life.
Oh no, no, no, no, no!
Never, never, never!
Never, never let me go!”
What happens when somebody does say goodbye to your part of their life? Well that, as they say, is the end of that. I don’t want to give you up but you’ve made other plans. More sensible, workable plans, admittedly. Perhaps I was just a moment, barely a mark on your sense of palmistry.
Right now I’m annoyed when you talk to me and I’m annoyed when you ignore me. Mostly, I suppose, I’m just annoyed that you picked him.
Maybe I should take that moment in time and put it over there as you have. Perhaps we should all move on and away.
