For reasons even I can’t explain, I’ve slowly started to complete a number of lyrics with melodies written decades ago. The verse below is among them. I banged out the first draft, through to the chorus, during my senior year of high school. Today, I added two additional stanzas to finish the song, barring any future revisions.
“Noon is What You’re Waiting For” derives from two inspirations: My then, strong anti-religious sentiments and something discussed during literature class: Cycle of life as morning, noon, and evening (or is that twilight). Meaning: Noon doesn’t refer to time of day when the protagonist sneaks out to meet boys but to her coming of age and freedom from Catholic colloquial confines.
As a 17 year-old, about to graduate from Lewiston High School (1977), months after my mom moved us from isolated Aroostook County to comparatively bustling Southern Maine, I raptured at the coming Noon in my life.
During the early 1980s, to soften the tone, I cut an additional stanza from the chorus—using “brainwashed”. The original copy was lost in Vermont almost 30 years ago, and I can’t recall what was removed.
The viewpoint presented is quite deliberate. The stanzas are third-person past tense, while the chorus is second-person present. Meter of the verse isn’t fluid when spoken, but flows better to the actual melody. Like most of my work, lyrics preceded tune.
If you like this one, please look at some of my other lyrics or songs: “Cries by Day, Cries by Night“; “Dank Deep Eyes the Darkness“; “Disco Queen“; “Empire State“; “Road to Jericho“; “Seventh Star Dreamer“; “Surrealistic Pillow“.
Noon is What You’re Waiting For
Standing in the doorway, she heard the mission bell
Warning her to be so good, and never go near Hell
Sitting on the carpet, she heard the Mother call
Suppertime, a sermon short, and then a game of softball
Sermons by the Father, lectures by the Nuns
Yet something missing deep inside
My darling One
And Noon is what you’re waiting for
When you go out on your own
They’ll never know the books you’ve hidden
Or the boys you’ve known
But Noon is short in coming
For some rules you learn to obey
And you know to slander God
And you know to use His name in vain
And you know to blaspheme the Lord
Is but a mortal sin
Walking to the parlor, Bible clutched in hand
Memorize verse of the day, by the Lord’s command
Leaning on the parchment, she scribbled Buddy’s name
Suddenly, a tinge of guilt, for the book that she defamed
Kneeling at the altar, praying in regret
Yet something churning deep inside
She can’t forget
And Noon is what you’re waiting for
When you go out on your own
They’ll never know the books you’ve hidden
Or the boys you’ve known
But Noon is short in coming
For some rules you learn to obey
And you know to slander God
And you know to use His name in vain
And you know to blaspheme the Lord
Is but a mortal sin
©1977, 2016 Joe Wilcox
Note: The lyric’s copyright is one of this blog’s exceptions: All Rights Reserved. Because the work as presented here is only partial. Melody is missing.
Photo Credit: Rachel Titiriga