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A MERMAID IN A FISH TANK

by George Blamey-Steeden

I’m a question not an answer
You’re a bullet not a gun
Disaster after disaster
Like a shadow on the run

You’re a mermaid in a fish tank
On a shelf against a wall
I’m the wizard without a magic wand
But I don’t care at all
Because in the dead of the night
I think about tomorrow
In the dead of the night
I trash my dreams of yesterday
In the dead of the night
Outside the locked doors of sorrow
I save my songs for another rainy day

All the pics here were taken in a place called Samphire Hoe, Kent. It’s a 30-hectare site at the foot of Shakespeare Cliff and was created from 4.9 million cubic metres of chalk marl dug to create the Channel Tunnel. A great place for scenery, peace and quiet, walks, wildflowers, birds and sea-angling.

I really don’t like it when someone takes sneaky pics of me – like this one from a few days ago before the storms. I’m posting this to win a dare. I look as miserable as sin, when all I was doing was having a think about how on earth did the line ‘you’re a mermaid in a fish tank’ arrive and ended up stuck inside my head.

I thought I’d give the new instrumental another outing while I’m still working on my new songs. It’s called ‘Herodotus’. I hope you enjoy;

If you’re interested in my inexpensive PROMO VIDEOS FOR AUTHORS  hit the link here or aim at the one at the top of this blog.

As ever, if any poets out there are interested in having their poems turned into songs then click here to check it out: POETRY TO SONG

If you are looking for all my other music then you’ll find it to download on BANDCAMP  -on the right-hand column of this blog post – or you can stream and/or make a playlist of it on SPOTIFY

If you’re thinking about new gear for the winter you might be interested in ZOOLON’S MERCHANDISE

Copyright © 2020 – Zoolon Audio. All rights reserved. Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

49 thoughts on “A MERMAID IN A FISH TANK”

      1. Thank you George. I’m sorry to hear your father is suffering from this world-wide chaos. It is, indeed, sometimes a struggle to keep one’ s mind from boggling. I will try to contact him, although I don;t seem to have much luck with my crazy computer always accomplishing the task I set it. I think it has a mind of its own. I am going blind, and that doesn’t help much in deciphering where go and how t do it. At age 93, I feel lucky to be able to move. Please keep well and give him my heartfelt regards when you talk to him. I miss his wry comments.

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  8. George, such an interesting tale. Although probably more truth than a fictitious story at the moment. I can only speak for myself and share my thoughts, your words echo the feelings and emotions of nations and nations. We drag our feet forward, going nowhere slowly. I feel very much like a captive mermaid in a tank, many questions, no answers. Disaster after disaster indeed, how can this be? Everyday a perpetual Sunday, the same, the same. Well, that is how it is here, no difference between yesterday, today or tomorrow. I hold on to hope that the day after tomorrow will be a new day, a new dawn. Lovely photos, and what is that you’re holding? Wishing you and yours well. ~ Mia

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    1. Thanks Mia. I’m not sure if this is a fiction or a massive metaphor. The story is, I was out walking with the old bloke we’ve known for years who was my mother’s first ever boyfriend at Cambridge. He is the classical artist who gave me the new ‘old’ guitar. He lives in France in the middle of nowhere and now his wife of 30 years has died he wanted to find a place to live in back in England. He took the pic and the bet using my phone pic that was taken on the basis he was taking in the scenery. He wasn’t. Out walking I saw a girl – maybe daughter, wife, whatever – of a fisherman with a mermaid tattoo on the back of her thigh and in her hand a massive glass jar like a fish tank. Right after that the line ‘mermaid in a fish tank’ hit me. So weird, I had to think, think and think again. That’s all it is, but it sings well. I’m holding the old bloke’s walking stick because he got bored of it walking on the flat. Thanks again ~ George

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      1. Thank you, George, for a wonderful reply. Ah, the new-old guitar, a most wonderful gift. I hope the first boyfriend finds the perfect home in England. 30 years, that would shake the best of any man to the core, wishing him well. So you’re holding his walking stick, it looks a bit like a ski pole. Nice he’s able to get by without it, at least on the flat. The arrival of inspiration is magical, when and where it comes from even more magical, at least I think so, and I enjoy collecting special (maybe precious) scraps from here and there and then starting to weave the ideas together in a painful sort of joy. I really like what you’ve got going so far, especially with a hint of ambiguity in the following lines, “I’m a question not an answer / You’re a bullet not a gun”. I look forward to seeing how this evolves. Will it stay on track or will the idea/intention jump the rails and take you in a completely and unexpected direction? Creativity, grab it when and where you can. Enjoy the process and the project. Have a great week ahead. ~ Mia

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      2. Thanks for the reply, Mia. Opening lines. Singer/songwriters – mainly – write songs that are sad, close to romantic but not quite there, or reflective of society getting everything wrong, like watching the planet die and doing nothing about it. Love, loss and lunacy I guess. Early Dylan a classic example. I think the first couple of lines with this one reflected the story of my life to a certain extent, fiction also. It’s just the way of things. Lockdown has left me stuck behind a front door, nowhere that interesting to go, with more potential lyrics than I’ve got melody for. A nuisance I’ve been gradually coming to terms with. The two ton ancient guitar has arrived at a good time. As to the walking stick, it’s one of those ones that are adjustable so the user can play around with it walking up and down hills. He had no trouble on the flat. I’ll be on a process hunt again this week and see what happens. Have a great week yourself ~ George

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  10. The mermaid..trapped in a fish tank ….on a shelf! What an image. Powerful words in all of this poem. I like your photos too. Nice one George. I am sorry to read about your Dad in the previous comments. The news can be overwhelming sometimes. I often feel like I have outlived my time. What happened to all that hope my generation had for that better future? Then I go and ride my horse and all that gloom lifts off my shoulders. Onwards ever onwards!

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  12. Lovely lyrics/poetry. With the world the way it is today, we are all mermaids stuck in a fish tank, on a shelf, against the wall. Perfect imagery.

    Not only are you talented, you are also handsome. Some people are camera shy but, you shouldn’t fret.

    What are you walking on? Is that some kind of layered sidewalk?

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    1. Thanks. I’m not sure what the surface is made of. It’s part of a sea defence. We get big waves thrashing over the walls in these parts, especially when the leftovers from a Caribbean storm crosses the Atlantic in our direction. Thanks again ~ George

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      2. It’s – the storms we get via the storms the US have had enough of – called the Polar Jet Stream. When the storms hit us, generally they’ve weakened crossing over The Atlantic, but they still mostly pack a punch. I think you get the worst of it, and it’s why in England we’re famous for our constant rain ~ George

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  13. It’s a great line and the lyrics really sum up what I feel like right now here in the U.S. of A. waiting for the outcome of a presidential election that seems — without trying to be too dramatic — that it could envelope the fate of the world, not just environmentally, but every way, George. So thanks for capturing the mood on this for me. Also, I don’t like the sneaky pics either and my kids do it to me all the time. I think I might have what you call “resting bitch face” but it’s really because I’m always puzzling something out in my head if it’s just me being left to my thoughts and my face reflects it. The same could be going on with you. Have a great day. pam

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    1. Thanks. I guess the rule is, ‘never think near a camera’. That’s what I tried to do, and failed. And you’re right, the leader of the Western World needs to be, at the very least, a man or woman with a functional brain. No idiot should be let near the ‘button’ that’s for sure. Glad you liked it, thanks again ~ George

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  15. Dear George, I don’t know if I ever told you that one of my best friends, and someone I worked for, was a songwriter of popular music, TV and movie scores, and The Standard School Broadcast. Often, we used Carmen Dragon and his orchestra for the latter show. The Sons of he Pioneers sang his songs, and he wrote the music fo “The Searchers,: his song running through the whole movie. His name was Stan Jones, and his most popular song was “Ghost Riders in the Sky.” After he died, i went to work for an actor, Eddie Albert and his wife, Margo, who had been an acclaimed actress. Eddie did some singing, and everyone in the family played the guitar. When I was teenager, family friends were the baritone John Charles Thomas and the comedian band leader Spike Jones, two entirely opposites in the music world. So, I have always been surrounded by music of one kind or another.

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    1. It sounds like you’ve had great times with great artists. That’s really good. I don’t know many of the names you mentioned other than Spike Jones. My grandad used to play his stuff, especially the song ‘Der Fuehrer’s Face’. I guess grandad played it a lot because he spent the whole WW2 in Krakow in a prisoner of war camp right next door to the concentration camp. He’d left England at 13 stone/6 foot tall, came back, I’m told, just 7 stone, with seriously frostbitten feet that meant his career with a top football club never got restarted when back in England. It was great that he still had a laugh over Spike Jones musical satire. Thanks for your words ~ George

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