Tuesday, December 08, 2009

The White Cliffs of Dover

For O'Docker:

There'll be bluebirds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow
Just you wait and see

I'll never forget the people I met
Braving those angry skies
I remember well as the shadows fell
The light of hope in their eyes
And though I'm far away
I still can hear them say
Bombs up...
But when the dawn comes up

There'll be bluebirds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow
Just you wait and see

There'll be love and laughter
And peace ever after
Tomorrow
When the world is free

The shepherd will tend his sheep
The valley will bloom again
And Jimmy will go to sleep
In his own little room again

There'll be bluebirds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow
Just you wait and see

There'll be bluebirds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow
Just you wait and see...

4 comments:

O Docker said...

Thanks for this, JP. Mr. Google tells me this song was, strangely enough, written by two yanks - and in 1941 (but before December 7th). And that there are, in fact, no bluebirds over the cliffs of Dover.

I'm also amazed to see that not only is Dame Vera still alive (at 92), but that she made it onto the British music charts again this year!

Have also discovered (damn, now you've got me dropping the 'I'), that BBC radio did a documentary on her and the song here, which I haven't listened to yet.

Pat said...

No bluebirds? What does fly over the cliffs of Dover?

JP said...

Pat: lots and lots of seagulls.

But I guess "There'll be seagulls over the white cliffs of Dover" doesn't have the same ring to it.

Amazingly enough (again) was able to hear Dame Vera sing at the 50th anniversary of VE day which according to Wikipedia was the last ever public performance. I could hardly believe then she was alive let alone singing.

Just after she sang the Queen and Queen Mum came out on to the Buck. Palace balcony to do their wavy bit and then there was a flyover of WW2 aircraft (except the Spitfire which alas broke down).

Quite a do it was.

Pat said...

My father, who is still alive, passed a few months in the late summer and early autumn of 1942 in Scotland, arriving with some fifteen thousand buddies aboard a gray-painted RMS Queen Mary. Then he passed on south to enjoy the scenic attractions of sunny (*) Algeria, Tunisia, and Italy, with idyllic spots to choose from such as the lovely beaches of Salerno / Anzio or the enchanting views of Monte Casino. He never spoke much of that particular holiday tour.