Jonathan Kelly is near forgotten 70s singer whose work I was introduced to via a folk night in Brighton during the 80s. I like songs that tell a story and have a definite ending and this one doesn't disappoint. Another marathon 6 minute song, sorry.
Back Room Acoustic Rock.
No band, precious little music either!
Story behind the song
A popular folk tale is of the she spirit, seducing travellers and stealing their life force to rejuvenate herself while leaving them old drained husks waiting to die... Sort of a metaphor for marriage in general. This is my version of the Cursed Anna by Jonathan Kelly.
Lyrics
As I was walking homeward in the early morning light
Leaving far behind the prison where I'd spent the night
With no idea of what I'd done or why they'd punished me
But feeling nonetheless relieved and grateful to be free.
My path led through a woodland far behind a rusted gate
I knew it was a shortcut if I kept my walking straight
But then, like out of nowhere, this old wizened man appeared
Holding high his one hand while the other stroked his beard.
"Beware the cursed Anna's stare", this warning did he bring
"No-one makes it through this wood, going out as they came in!"
"But a change is what I'm looking for", I told the sad old man
And bidding him a last farewell into the wood I ran
I ran till I came to the river where I stopped to bathe my feet
And that is where I smelled her perfume delicate and sweet.
I stood up and I turned around and there in front of me
Stood a beautiful woman who simply stared at me
And then I knew it was all true what this old man had advised
"You must be Anna", I said, as I looked into her eyes.
And then we came together in a passionate embrace
I felt my body weaken and my heart begin to race
And when at last the kissing stopped I saw to my alarm
This woman had turned into a young girl in my arms.
I heard her childish laughter as she vanished through the trees
I turned back to the river, my reflection for to see
And down there in the water saw exactly as I feared
To my horror I'd turned into an old man with a beard.
For seven long years I've waited by this gate, wishing that I could die
But that can never happen till some other young man comes by
I know that I must warn him to go round some other way
But hope that, like most men of his age, he won't believe what old men say.
Jon, Very Richard Thomson like. We must get together some time as I love this sort of stuff. The recording quality is excellent. Well done. Keith Balderson