Post by Deleted on Oct 22, 2014 12:35:06 GMT -5
So here's a new song I wrote today while waiting at the local Slyvan Learning Center, where I applied for a tutoring job. Oddly enough, I wasn't waiting that long, but the song came out fairly quickly.
It is based on a family story, involving one of my mom's aunts. She worked at a paper mill called Apsley Mills and disappeared one day. Her body was never found, but they suspect she was walking to work and instead of crossing the Grand Union Canal (then called the Grand Junction Canal) via the footbridge, she took a shortcut and tried to cross over one of the locks, which the kids sometimes did. But it was a winter morning and they figure the lock was icy and she slipped and fell. They found a shoe and her purse.
When I was there last week, I stayed with my cousins, who live a block from the canal. There's a lock nearby (not the one involved) and I wouldn't be keen on crossing it even in the best conditions. But I can see a teen doing it.
It was early last century, but nobody in the family still alive can remember the year, and while people called her Kate, they're not even sure that was her name because no Kate Ambrose shows up in the census.
It still needs editing -- there are a couple of lines with far too many syllables -- and I have no melody yet, but I figure it should be something old-timey, maybe even Irish. Any thoughts on wording are welcome.....
Her name was Katie Ambrose
And she worked the Apsley Mills
Making paper for the King
In the Chiltern Hills
A fair 19 and lively
Caught the eye of many men
Left for work one morning
Never seen again
Crossed the Grand Junction Canal
Her path to work each day
Stretched Birmingham to London
That vital waterway
Her mother warned her often
"Always cross the bridge"
The lock at Apsley End may save you time
But it's like walking on a ledge
A chilly December morning
Fields frosted with the dew
She headed to Apsley End
Perhaps to save a minute or two
She never showed at work
Her sisters watched the time
Did she wander off
Or did she fall to crime?
Then a boatman at the lock
Spied a single shoe and purse
They belonged to Katie Ambrose
And her parents feared the worst
They never found her body
So just this story's left to tell
She tried to cross the icy lock
No doubt she slipped and fell
Her name was Katie Ambrose
She had worked the Apsley Mills
Making paper for His Highness
In the Chiltern Hills
Sent from my iPad
It is based on a family story, involving one of my mom's aunts. She worked at a paper mill called Apsley Mills and disappeared one day. Her body was never found, but they suspect she was walking to work and instead of crossing the Grand Union Canal (then called the Grand Junction Canal) via the footbridge, she took a shortcut and tried to cross over one of the locks, which the kids sometimes did. But it was a winter morning and they figure the lock was icy and she slipped and fell. They found a shoe and her purse.
When I was there last week, I stayed with my cousins, who live a block from the canal. There's a lock nearby (not the one involved) and I wouldn't be keen on crossing it even in the best conditions. But I can see a teen doing it.
It was early last century, but nobody in the family still alive can remember the year, and while people called her Kate, they're not even sure that was her name because no Kate Ambrose shows up in the census.
It still needs editing -- there are a couple of lines with far too many syllables -- and I have no melody yet, but I figure it should be something old-timey, maybe even Irish. Any thoughts on wording are welcome.....
Her name was Katie Ambrose
And she worked the Apsley Mills
Making paper for the King
In the Chiltern Hills
A fair 19 and lively
Caught the eye of many men
Left for work one morning
Never seen again
Crossed the Grand Junction Canal
Her path to work each day
Stretched Birmingham to London
That vital waterway
Her mother warned her often
"Always cross the bridge"
The lock at Apsley End may save you time
But it's like walking on a ledge
A chilly December morning
Fields frosted with the dew
She headed to Apsley End
Perhaps to save a minute or two
She never showed at work
Her sisters watched the time
Did she wander off
Or did she fall to crime?
Then a boatman at the lock
Spied a single shoe and purse
They belonged to Katie Ambrose
And her parents feared the worst
They never found her body
So just this story's left to tell
She tried to cross the icy lock
No doubt she slipped and fell
Her name was Katie Ambrose
She had worked the Apsley Mills
Making paper for His Highness
In the Chiltern Hills
Sent from my iPad
