Home Thoughts, From Abroad

This made me smile today. I have always had a penchant for pseudo-deep 1970s schmaltz (I could rave on for hours about Peter Sarstedt: I am a Cathedral in My Mind; My Father is the Pope you Know; etc) and can't believe I hadn't heard about Clifford T. Ward before.

He was a British singer-songwriter, big in the sixties and seventies (and onetime teacher of Trudie Styler - a lot to answer for). One of his most successful albums was Home Thoughts, with Home Thoughts from Abroad its title track. You can listen to it here (and I would suggest you do).

The lyrics alone make the song seem saccharine, and don't bear much interpretation (see below), but the song itself is sweet and heartfelt, catchy without being cheesy - and, above all, very very earnest. It equates lovesickness with homesickness, in a way we can all recognise, and the mention of Browning, Keats and Shelley lends it a very English charm (though perhaps not gravitas):

I could be a millionaire if I had the money

I could own a mansion, no I don't think I'd like that
But I might write a song that makes you laugh, now that would be funny
And you could tell your friends in England you'd like that
But now I've chosen aeroplanes and boats to come between us
And a line or two on paper wouldn't go amiss
How is Worcestershire? Is it still the same between us?
Do you still use television to send you fast asleep?
Can you last another week? Does the cistern still leak?
Or have you found a man to mend it?
Oh, and by the way, how's your broken heart?
Is that mended too? I miss you
I miss you, I really do.

I've been reading Browning, Keats and William Wordsworth
And they all seem to be saying the same thing for me
Well I like the words they use, and I like the way they use them
You know, Home Thoughts From Abroad is such a beautiful poem
And I know how Robert Browning must have felt
'Cause I'm feeling the same way about you
Wondering what you're doing and if you need some help
Do I still occupy your mind? Am I being so unkind?
Do you find it very lonely, or have you found someone to laugh with?
Oh, and by the way, are you laughing now?
'Cause I'm not, I miss you
I miss you, I really do.

I fell for it the first time I heard it and I knew I really loved it when I heard the catch in Ward's throat at the thought of "aeroplanes and boats" coming "between us"... For some reason the mention of Worcestershire, and the general theme, make me think of Armistead Maupin's character from Tales of the City, Mona Ramsey - after the first few books doesn't she end up as a San Francsico émigré, somewhere in deepest, darkest Englandshire, probably with a faulty cistern, and with many aeroplanes and boats between her and Barbary Lane?