Danny Row

In a street you may or may not know
Lived a man called Danny Row
With his red-bricked house
And his office in the town,
He worked for wife and family
From morning to sundown

Danny Row, the future's dancing out of reach
Danny Row, the future's dancing out of reach.

Danny met Susan in 1982:
He was working for her father
Selling brand new training shoes
Laughing in her dark green dress
His heart began to fly.
Laying by the river; when
They kissed she closed his eyes.

Danny Row, the future's dancing out of reach
Danny Row, the future's dancing out of reach.

They were married in September
With summer on the wane
Autumn leaves were tangled
In Susan's bridal train
Posing for the pictures
That sat upon the shelf,
Danny Row was thinking:
'I hardly know myself.'

Danny Row, the future's dancing out of reach
Danny Row, the future's dancing out of reach.

Years went by, slipped away like sand.
So many things to do, so much to understand.
Soon there was a son, a child for them at last
But by some sad magic their love began to pass.

Danny Row, the future's dancing out of reach
Danny Row, the future's dancing out of reach.

And Danny thought:
'Is this my life? Is this how it's gonna be?
Forever looking backwards, never living peacefully?'

'Is this my life? Is this how it's gonna be?
Forever looking backwards, never living peacefully?'

One still night when the baby was asleep
Danny crept down and put shoes upon his feet.
Opening the door, looking to the moon:
He cried for something missing:
Unseen, unfelt, unused.

Danny Row, the future's dancing out of reach
Danny Row, the future's dancing out of reach.

Stephen Baker 2003
All rights reserved.