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Tag Archives: A Night at the Opera


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Song-Lyric Sunday – ’39 by Queen

I’m so happy that our dear Helen has given me the opportunity to feature one of my favourite tunes on my blog for Song-Lyric Sunday. You can find the prompt, which is “outer space,” here.

’39 by Queen is a fascinating song off the album “A Night at the Opera.” It was sung and written by Brian May, which is an important detail. Why? Because Dr. May is an astrophysicist, so one must assume he knew what he was talking about when he wrote the lyrics.

The song is about flying out in search of new worlds at the speed of light. It’s about a man who goes out to find a safe place for his family to live, only to find when he gets back to earth 100 years later that though he’s aged very little, his wife has died and his child is older than himself. It’s the ultimate scientifically possible time-travel scenario, with a sad, romantic story.

It’s a fantastic song. Here is the official video with the lyrics. You’ll find them written out below as well.

Enjoy.

’39
by Brian May

In the year of ’39 assembled here the Volunteers
In the days when lands were few
Here the ship sailed out into the blue and sunny morn
The sweetest sight ever seen.

And the night followed day
And the story tellers say
That the score brave souls inside
For many a lonely day sailed across the milky seas
Never looked back, never feared, never cried.

Don’t you hear my call though you’re many years away
Don’t you hear me calling you
Write your letters in the sand
For the day I take your hand
In the land that our grandchildren knew.

In the year of ’39 came a ship in from the blue
The volunteers came home that day
And they bring good news of a world so newly born
Though their hearts so heavily weigh

For the earth is old and grey, little darling we’ll away
But my love this cannot be
For so many years have gone though I’m older but a year
Your mother’s eyes from your eyes cry to me.

Don’t you hear my call though you’re many years away
Don’t you hear me calling you
Write your letters in the sand
For the day I take your hand
In the land that our grandchildren knew.

Don’t you hear my call though you’re many years away
Don’t you hear me calling you
All your letters in the sand cannot heal me like your hand

For my life
Still ahead
Pity Me.


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The Healing Power of Music

Music has a place in the hearts of many—one might even say the majority of people; it’s what we listen to in our cars when we’re driving as fast as we can (legally of course 😉 ); it’s what we employ to escape the doldrums of life; it’s our background noise; it’s the panacea that allows our souls to heal.

But what of the artists who create it? We treat them these days as though the owe us. We steal from them, and the internet allows us to without reserve. Think about that…

That’s not what this post is about, however. I want to talk about the quality of the recordings we hear in this age of digital everything. Have you ever heard anything on vinyl? Do you remember why it is preferable, even though you want to preserve the cover, to take off the plastic wrap from the outer sleeve of a 33 and a third record?

I am so happy I kept all my records. I have here, in my house, the very first rock album I ever received–Christmas of 1977–“Frampton Comes Alive.” I have many of the CD versions of the old albums I still possess–“Equinox” by Styx, “A Night at the Opera” by Queen” (which I most gratefully received for Christmas last year as a limited edition vinyl copy)

Night

and I’m able to do a direct A to B comparison. Believe me when I say that if listening to a CD is great, experiencing the same on vinyl, is like being in the same room as the band as they record it.  Where digital is a flat wall of sound, vinyl surrounds you like you’re standing inside the music. It penetrates. It removes all other thoughts. It allows you to be fully in the moment, where no cares can invade. It is healing.

If you ever have the opportunity to listen to vinyl, do. If you ever have the chance to buy a turntable, do. Vinyl is coming back. Embrace it.

Slash