Cougar
Enlightened Member
Interesting story in the New York Times this morning: "Before Dylan, There Was Connie Converse. Then She Vanished." The article didn't include any of her lyrics, but they were easy to find. Here are some of her lyrics. Interesting stuff for pre-1960s songwriting in Manhattan.... Here's one....
How sad, how lovely
How short, how sweet
To see that sunset
At the end of the street
And the day gathered in
To a single light
And the shadows rising
From the brim of the night
Too few, too few
Are the days that will hold
Your face, your face
In a blaze of gold
How sad, how lovely
How short, how sweet
To see that sunset
At the end of the street
And the lights going on
In the shops and the bars
And the lovers looking
For the first little stars
Like life, like a smile
Like the fall of a leaf
How sad, how lovely
How brief
How sad, how lovely
How short, how sweet
To see that sunset
At the end of the street
And the day gathered in
To a single light
And the shadows rising
From the brim of the night
Too few, too few
Are the days that will hold
Your face, your face
In a blaze of gold
How sad, how lovely
How short, how sweet
To see that sunset
At the end of the street
And the lights going on
In the shops and the bars
And the lovers looking
For the first little stars
Like life, like a smile
Like the fall of a leaf
How sad, how lovely
How brief