In Earnest

[I. The Radio Amateur]

Keying his mic' as he searches for life
A gentle old man sits alone in the dark
He's scanning the waves
Looking for memories he can share

His correspondents collect him like stamps
Adding his callsign to their trophies and maps
And none of them wonder just who it is they're talking to
None of them think to ask the kind of man he was...

"I was a pilot, in a war long ago
And it all seemed to matter way back then..."

And now and then he feels the ground-rush
As his plane hits the air
Or feels his ground crew rally round him once again

[II. Worthy of Memory part 1]

He remembers everything about flying Spitfires, sending Morse
The crackle of the radio, the tension of the news reports
He flew to save his people!
His people do not want to know him now

He remembers every detail about those sand-bagged days
But every chapter that came after, vanishes in blurry haze
He has no great love story, just medals and a glory, gone for good
He gave his youth - just like he should

[III. Demobilized]

He demobbed in 1945 as the world he'd fought for came alive
He looked for his friends to find that most of them had gone
He scanned the radio the next few years, until the last ones disappeared
When no-one was left, our Earnest looked to pastures new, from his viewpoint
A mile above the ground
He looked down on his oyster, green and blue

[IV. Dehumanized]

He sits in a hundred countries, counting off his latter years, while...
Leaders sit in panelled War-Rooms, fuelled by their peoples' fears
They'll find so many willing
So many, ready to do what he has done

[V. Flights of Fancy]

He remembers smoky jazz bars in the years after war
The feeling of nostalgia was creeping up and taking over
And after that it all just seemed the same
How could he ever equal it again?

And in his flights of fancy he's still the captain of his crew
His navigator on the double bass?
Is that Lofty up there with him too?
But it all came down so fast
And this be-bop won't last

And in his flights of fancy he never even left the R.A.F
It all came down so fast, and
Earnest only has the past
He's a hero in November
But all year long he's last in the Queue

[VI. Worthy of Memory part 2]

He remembers something - about a motorbike in Lincolnshire?
A rally -- for Ham Radio?, his kids on a trip?, to Brighton Pier?
His heart is in the 40's
His roaring engines still sport his name...
In Earnest, we all had a friend

[VII. The Silent Key (instrumental)]

[VIII. Earnest Dreams of 617]

Lifelong memories as he hits the dam
Of Bouncing Bombs and slide rules
Radio cans...
It's Earnest in the cockpit and he'll never know
A moment to compare to this one
On the Earth... below

[IX. Some Crazy Old Guy]

Sipping his pint as he sits at the bar
A fragile old man sits alone with his thoughts
Around him we buzz, and never notice that he's there
He's in the way when we order our drinks
He's there every night of the week
Some Crazy Old Guy who tells those stories all the time...
(And none of us think to even ask if he feels fine)
...But he's not with us, he's miles away from here
In the only past we gave him worth his thoughts
So we'll never see his Spitfire as it makes its final roll
And we'll never learn the lessons he was taught

[X. In Earnest]

Don't leave me nostalgic for the wrong things in my life
I don't want adventures among your grand designs of war!
I'll take a clear morning with the wind in my hair
I beg you, In Earnest, for nothing more