The third song to be written and for me the hardest, because Annie decided to play a trick on me and try “an experiment.” Instead of sending me a completed track to write to, she record an “intro” section, a “verse” section, a middle eight and an instrumental, and asked me to put them together in whatever combination I saw fit.

Finding myself without a concrete framework in which to build a story, I floundered about for a while before one or other of the sections (I forget which) began to make sense. Once I’d been able to come up with an idea, the structure of the song took shape and the rest of the lyric followed. Not an experiment I’d be keen to repeat any time soon!



When you were my friend, when everything was easy
We could depend, on happy days of freedom
And the summer sun would shine, and we’d drink another glass of wine
When you were my friend.

Then I lay awake, I listened to you sleeping
My heart would break, remembering all the weeping
And the autumn leaves they fell, heard the lonely tolling of a bell
While I lay awake

Cry the night away, lying there, the dark was full of demons
You turned right away, not a word was said, you were dead, you and all your feelings

The day I left home, you said I didn’t love them
It cut to the bone, to see that I might lose them
And the winter winds they blew, and that night I knew that we were through
The day I left home

Cry the night away, cos you’re not, the man, I thought you would be
Don’t go right away, you know we can talk, you and me, work it out, can’t we?

Bitter tears
Through the years
Washed our dreams away

Now I look ahead, I see the sun is rising 
I’m clear in my head, there’s no more analysing
All around the spring is green, don’t know what the smiling eyes may mean
But I look ahead.

Cry the night away, for the time, we had, the years we wasted
In my hideaway, I am lost, and small, see the wall, and I can’t face it.

Cry inside today, no-one ever sees, that I’m still dying
Death without decay, you will find no wreath, (but) underneath, the night is still crying.


Beresford & Wallace: Weird and Wonderful
Beresford & Wallace: Suburban Nostalgia