Love Song

As sung by Victoria Wood on Victoria Wood real life—the songs, CD number OMCD1212, and featured in Lucky Bag: The Victoria Wood Song Book, 2nd edition published 1992 by Methuen, ISBN 0-7493-0819-2

This is about the only sad song I do, so usually people aren’t prepared for it. That’s why the intro is so long, to give the audience a chance to stop laughing and get a bit bored. Sometimes people cry when they hear it. I can tell because when they come backstage and shake hands they’ve got snot on their sleeves. (I just made that up.) I wrote the song for a revue at the Bush Theatre called In at the Death. There was a sketch set in Belfast and I couldn’t do the accent, so they made me a deaf mute.

Made your breakfast this morning, just like any old day,
And then I remembered and I threw it away.

Found an old photo in the kitchen drawer—
You by the seaside during the war.
You’re laughing at something and the wind's in your hair
You were ever so slim then, and your hair was still fair,

And I wanted to kiss you, but you always laughed,
And I wanted to tell you, but I felt daft.

Still, we got married. I was tight.
Then we both got embarrassed, played rummy all night.
I remember the baby and its sticky-out ears,
But I can’t single out things over the years.

In Women’s Surgical by your bed,
I knew that I loved you, but I never said.

I brought you Black Magic, and they said you’d died.
I had a cup of tea there, came home and cried.
Got to go back to the hospital to collect your things—
Your nightie, your teeth and your wedding ring.

Made your breakfast this morning, just like any old day,
And then I remembered and I threw it away.
Made your breakfast this morning, just like any old day,
And then I remembered and I threw it away.

© Victoria Wood, 1978