Falling Star

Gerald Brennan—composer, lyricist, pianist, singer

All washed up and getting’ old.
But he used to be ‘Da Man. One hit record after another, but nobody remembers.
Had himself the love of a lifetime, too, but the boozing and womanizing got so bad she just couldn’t take it anymore.
It’s all caught up with him, lying on the hill in the black of night. The falling star he sees reminds him of himself. It’s so bright, spectacular, but it’s falling, and soon it will just become a memory.
And nobody sings his songs anymore. But the worst of it is, he hurt her and hurt her and hurt her again and eventually she just disappeared.

Worn out and unsung,
Too late to die young.
Worn down, and rode hard and put away wet.

My flings have been flung,
Too late to die young.
My flings all ended in anger and debt.

I gaze into the starry night,
see my world in black and white.
All of your colors are gone.

My bell has been rung,
Too late to die young.
My bell’s more cracked than that Liberty one.

I gaze into the starry night,
see one of those stars take flight.
Burning so bright as it falls.

When I was worn down you were there,
My flings – you never seemed to care.
But for that look in your eyes…

My swing has been swung.
My spring has been sprung,
My spring was hundreds of seasons ago.

I wish upon that falling star,
close my eyes and there you are.
Everything dear comes to mind.

When I was worn down you were there,
My flings – you never seemed to care.
But for that look in your eyes…
My bell would only ring for you,
Summer, fall and winter, too.
You were my soul in disguise.

Worn out and unsung,
Too late to die young.