FLOWERS OF THE WAYSIDE
©Trev Teasdel November 1970 Coventry.
As I pass the streets lined with tears of unexpressed souls,
Rows of tins of compressed talents chained in their folds
Lines of 'could’ve been if I tried, but didn’t pursue my goals’
Chains of the ‘same as the day before (and day before that)’ plastic moulds
Boxes of ‘shun the new, it’ll be our ruin, stick to the beaten path’ holes
Chorus
I just put my face to my hands
My fear for to hide
That I might yet become just another
Flower of the Wayside.
Their bins are full of screwed up dreams from the morning of their youth
And yes, they still have their dreams in the straitjacket of their lives.
They follow convention down the steps, in his drunken waltz
To fall into the waters deep, to find they cannot swim, to find they cannot think.
They’re too busy not being busy trying to be themselves,
They’ve been hung up upon society allocated shelves.
They pay homage to the idol with numerals on his face
And as his arms rotate, they start their diurnal chase
Machines, I once thought, were extensions of man’s arms
But men have just become extensions of machines,
Turmoiling in their cogwheel confusion
While I stage my independence – the Waterbearer’s revolution.............
The song began downtown Coventry in 1970 outside the Dive Bar. A friend had just bought Full House by Fairport Convention and one of the tracks was called 'Flowers of the Forest' it sparked my quite different song about people growing old and deserting their dreams and following convention to the letter. I managed to avoid that!
The lyric was published as a poem in my first chapbook, The Escaped Poet in 1984 and in various magazines. I recorded a musical version on a mono cassette to take to a publisher in 1973 but not a good recording. It's below, but I also recently employed AI to create a track around some of the lyric - below.
This version is by Mira and the Magnetic Ghosts 2025
This is the same version but on Reverbnation
Flowers of the Wayside by Trev Teasdel
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