I received a note just after the first of the year from one of Paul’s friends from Crossroads High School. Martin and Paul spent a lot of time at each other’s homes on the weekends writing and recording music. When they were at our house we could always expect a new recording waiting for us to play in the morning. We’ve kept in touch with Martin and his family since Paul died.
The Sharples family, 1988 (Paul is in back)
Martin said in his note,
“I was cleaning out some very old files and found two old hand-written lyrics by Paul, both written aged 16-17 I'd say. One is a straightforward love gone wrong song and one is a rather harsh reproach of hippies who've sold out.”
Having something else that Paul created is such a gift – it helps fill in another piece of the puzzle, showing his prowess as a writer along with his playing and composing talents. The two pages that I received in the mail from Martin yesterday are ripped and faded, but no less valuable to me.
The other page is barely readable
I’ve copied Paul’s lyrics here to share with you.
When I’m With You
Chorus I never feel more alone than when I’m with you
Verse 1 Take me away to a faraway place
You do it, then you slash my face
Sometimes it’s useless to even try
I’m still in love and I wonder why
Verse 2 A different excuse but it’s all the same
You don’t love me but no one’s to blame
We learn from mistakes made in the past
But we forget and move too fast
Verse 3 It’s cold and dark and raining outside
But if I don’t leave I’ll swallow mu pride
There’s no one else like you out there
But I’m too hurt to even care
Bridge Where’s your kindness, your sense of shame?
I guess to you, it’s all a game
You lock me out, then pull me in
When I respond, you burn my skin
You Just Don’t Care
Do you still draw peace signs on your clothes?
Do still wear flowers in you hair?
‘Cause if you did, we all might be alive tomorrow
But you just don’t care. You just don’t care
You got your million dollar house and your two-car garage
That’s filled with the spoils from your latest treasure chase
You can see your own reflection in the pools of blood you’ve spilled
But your friends from when you were a kid wouldn’t recognize your face.
If I asked you solemnly would you tell me the truth
About why you have turned out this way and where your love has gone
Do you think that the problems in the world have gone since you’ve grown up
Or you have just erased them from the pictures you have drawn