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"My World Disappears" (in memory of Diane Keaton and all the bright souls of an age gone by)
In a turn-of-the-19th-century stately house on Fire Island Avenue in Babylon, New York, I first met Diane Keaton—purely by chance. I had stopped by to wish Tony Turco (stage name Anthony Bishop) a happy birthday. Seated around a grand Victorian dining table in a dark-paneled room filled with crafts by Annabelle Turco—including a life-size Egyptian mummy’s coffin—were Broadway actors, stagehands, and, if memory serves, even Woody Allen. Ernest Borgnine chatted away nearby.
Over the years, I’d occasionally bump into celebrity types at the Turco house. A few caught my fancy. This song was written moments after I learned of the passing of one of my favorites—Diane Keaton.
SRT
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As I grow,
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I build my world,
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little by little,
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it takes form.
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Till one day I wake and see,
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I'm part of something more.
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My world is made of you and me.
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The trees I pass,
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the mountain streams,
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the skyline rising into dreams.
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The roads that wind through what has been.
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But as I age,
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my world disappears.
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Faces fade through the veil of years.
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Laughter,
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the fashion,
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the silver screen.
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Echo like ghosts in a magazine.
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Change keeps moving,
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it won't stand still.
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And I remember what used to be.
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Fashions change,
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they come and go,
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but I recall the ones I know.
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Even rivals,
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even foes,
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all faces in the shifting frame.
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Vic and Frank, (My uncle Vic Damone & Frank Sinatra)
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George and John, (Beatles)
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Diane's laughter carried on.
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Now just voices on a worn-out song that plays where time has gone.
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Yes,
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as I age,
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my world disappears.
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Shops close down and no one hears.
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The crackle of vinyl,
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the old refrains.
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Only silence where joy remains.
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Change keeps moving,
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it won't stand still.
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And I remember what used to be.
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There was a time before the bricks,
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when rivers stayed and trees grew thick.
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When seas were wide and maps were dreams,
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and families stayed through everything.
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Back when a friend would never fade,
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and time was kind,
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not a thief in the shade.
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But as I age,
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my world disappears.
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The light grows dim,
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yet it's crystal clear.
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All that I've lost still lives in me.
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Every soul,
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each memory.
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Change keeps moving,
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it always will.
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And I remember what used to be.
-
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