Scot Street

I heard a song the other night playing on the radio It was "A Whiter Shade of Pale" by the Procol Harum I remember how we danced to it in the middle of the street How I swirled you around The way your laughter echoed in the night How your brown hair flew around Like a flag on a flagpole The way your eyes smiled As you went round and round Me holding on to your hands Never wanting to let you go Those were such simple and happy times back then But then, as we got older those simple days Were anything but simple What we enjoyed so much as youths, was now gone You went your way, I went mine Never to see each other again But what a year it was in 1967 For a little while we had us a taste of heaven Now, every time I hear "A Whiter Shade of Pale" My minds drifts back to that night When we danced in the street as the car radio played Though I may no longer have you to hold What I do hold is that special memory From a very magical year That, unlike time it will never fade away 12-6-18/RjH