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Page 69
Fe
ed
ba
ck
So
ft
w
ar
e
Big 707 set to go
But I’m stuck here in the grass
Where the cold wind blows
A disaster, a homeless man looking
for human warmth, a woman he runs
across in his travels… we follow daily
life through his eyes. Like many a trou-
badour who has trod the roads of here
and everywhere, he has met the many
faces of love, which can sometimes be
oppressive.
That’s what you get for lovin’ me
Everything you had is gone,
As you can see
I ain’t the kind to hang around
With any new love that I’ve found
‘Cause movin’ is my stock in trade
I’m movin’ on
I won’t think of you when I’m gone.
T h i s s o n g, a b o u t l o v e a n d
disappointment:
How long, said she,
can a moment like this
Belong to someone
What’s wrong, what is right,
when to live or to die
We must almost be born
So if you should ask me
what secrets I hide
I’m only your lover,
don’t make me decide
Or this one, about a man whose lover,
at dawn, returns to her other life:
Softly she comes in the night,
Down the darkened hall
I hear her footsteps on my stair
And she is in my arms once more
Then softly she goes…in the dawn
Or this song of longing:
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy
just to hold the hands I love
Upon this winter night with you
In 1972 Lightfoot is diagnosed with
Bell’s Palsy: paralysis of his left arm and
face, tingling in his leg, chest pains,
dizziness. In short it’s serious, and he
has no option but to rest for a time. The
following year he and his wife Brita, with
whom he has two children, Fred and
Ingrid, agree to divorce. The split will
make headlines.
The time has come to gather his
thoughts. The nomadic life that is in his
nature is tough on a couple, and he will
live single for nearly two decades. Then
love knocks on his door once more. A
pretty green-eyed blonde, Elizabeth
Moon, becomes his second wife in 1989.
His wanderings will always bring him
back to her.
Like many other artists, he faced the
twin demons of alcohol and gambling.
An early song presaged later events:
Well I got my mail late last night
A letter from a girl
who found the time to write
To her lonesome boy
somewheres in the night
She sent me a railroad ticket too
To take me to her lovin’ arms…
I went in town for one last round
And I gambled my ticket away
And the big steel rail won’t carry me
Home to the one I love
And then there’s this song, in which
the bottle plays a leading role:
I’m on my second cup of coffee
And I still can’t face the dawn.
The radio is playin’ a soft country song
And if I don’t stop this trembling hand
From reaching for the phone,
I’ll be reaching for the bottle, Lord,
Before this day is done
In 1982 he emerges victorious from
a long battle against his dependence.
That unhappy experience could be the
reason that, as far as I know, he has
never allowed his music to be used in a
commercial. “I don’t want the beer com-
mercial to be my epitaph,” he supposedly
once said.
ULTRA HIGH FIDELITY Magazine