I've told this story here before, but since it's officially the first day of summer, I figured that it would be an appropriate occasion to tell it again and post a song I co-wrote a while back, since it's titled -- "Summer Hot." The music is by Andy Marx. (Several years ago, I posted another song we wrote for the Showtime movie Wharf Rat, written and directed by Jimmy Huston -- who wrote the wonderful movie, Running Scared with Billy Crystal and Gregory Hines. I mention this, too, though because it was performed on the soundtrack by Lynn Mills and the endearing Shelly Goldstein, oft-mentioned around these pages. For thems interested, you can hear it here.) "Summer Hot" has a bit of an odd history. Oddest of all is that I can remember what I was thinking when I wrote it. That isn't always the case. Anyway, during my dark days when I did movie publicity, I was working in Maine on the Stephen King film, Pet Sematary. (So, that would mark this song as around 1989.) Having some time on the set, I wrote a bit of doggerel one day that some fun wordplay It was offbeat enough that I wondered if I could expand it to an entire song lyric. I ended up coming up with a way to do that, with that doggerel becoming the chorus, and it turned into a lyric about unexpected contradictions that come at us throughout our life. Andy put it to music, and here we are. We recorded a demo, with Andy singing. I don't know the words will all be clear, so I've posted the lyrics. Besides, that will allow you to sing along. Or to bring the neighbors and friends in for a group sing. Just follow the bouncing beach ball... And I must admit that of all the the things we wrote together -- most of all I have loved the harmonica that comes in at the 3:33 mark. Go figure. We always live in the days of Summer.
Summer good days, Summer not. We make the best of what we've got. Summer cold days, Summer hot. Early morning, the sun also rises. Eyes open brightly, what you first realize is The new day before you is full of surprises. And biggest of all, it's exactly the same. Struggling forever to get where you've gotten, You've filed all the papers and you've picked all the cotton. You've done all you can, gave it all your best shot, an' You find, without trying, that you've lucked into fame. We always live in the days of Summer. Summer good days, Summer not. We make the best of what we've got. Summer cold days, Summer hot. Shadows grow long, and your good reputation Has allowed you to rise to an eminent station. And you've even been honored by a most grateful nation. If only they now would remember your name. Deep beyond midnight when the light's far behind you, You dream in the dark of the days that remind you Of losing and winning and all that defined you. And you smile at the joy of just playing the game. We always live in the days of Summer. Summer good days, Summer not. We make the best of what we've got. Summer cold days, Summer hot. (Repeat chorus twice)
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AuthorRobert J. Elisberg is a political commentator, screenwriter, novelist, tech writer and also some other things that I just tend to keep forgetting. Feedspot Badge of Honor
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