The Seekers were my favourite group and, playing a video of ‘The Carnival is Over’ the other day, I read the whole of the introduction which was as follows:
‘The Seekers, bathed in the warm glow of the studio lights, weave their magic. Athol Guy’s Double Bass plucks a gentle melody, Keith Potger’s bass thrums a steady heartbeat, and Bruce Woodley’s guitar adds a touch of melancholic shimmer. But it’s Judith, her eyes shining with unshed tears, who truly owns the stage. Her voice, clear as a mountain stream, carries the weight of a thousand goodbyes. Each note hangs in the air, heavy with the bittersweet knowledge that every joy must eventually fade. Yet, there’s a quiet strength in her delivery, a gentle acceptance of life’s inevitable cycles. The lyrics, simple yet profound, paint a vivid picture of a carnival packing up, its laughter replaced by the rustle of packing canvas and the creak of departing wagons. It’s a metaphor for life itself, reminding us that nothing lasts forever, and that even the brightest moments must eventually give way to the shadows. But even in its sadness, “The Carnival Is Over” holds a strange beauty. It’s a lament for lost innocence, yes, but also a celebration of the memories we carry with us. The song reminds us to cherish the fleeting moments of joy, for they are the threads that weave the tapestry of our lives. And as the final notes fade, leaving only the echo of applause, we’re left with a bittersweet ache, a longing for the carnival’s return. But we also know, deep down, that the true carnival lives on within us, in the memories we hold dear and the laughter that still rings in our hearts. So, thank you, Seekers, for that poignant reminder. Thank you for capturing the bittersweet beauty of life in a song that still resonates decades later. “The Carnival Is Over” may mark the end of the merrymaking, but it also leaves us with a profound appreciation for the precious gift of time we’ve been given. And that, I believe, is the truest magic of all.’
Hold on to that and believe that our dear departed Puffins felt and lived that way as we who are left still do. R.I.P.
Thoughts drifted into my mind that life is a little like those machines in the penny arcades where coins rolled down the slide push others closer, ever closer to the edge so that eventually they drop off the end. Wonder who up above is inserting those 2p pieces?
Loved the suggestion of Far White that the way to take the mind off the pain suffered by a poorly Puffin was to ’Staple your scrotum to the door frame’ – gave me a fit of the guffaws.
Not to mention Betty Swollocks – ‘In the land of the unconscious the one legged man is king.’ I am still pondering the deep meaning of this…………
Brings to mind a very important caveat – ‘Never bet on the one legged man in an arse kicking contest!’
Disturbing events this week – Paul Thorpe being taken off air by the free speech Stazi and the young Royal Marine Commando taken away by the Thought Police. Beria, you should be living at this hour!
Talking of the police and thoughts of government profligacy I recall at The National Police College officers moving out did not always hand in the taxpayer paid for laptops – there was no ‘Clearance certificate’ system such as the services have.
I could say something about net zero, Millitwat and power outages but it makes me shudder just contemplating the utter, utter stupidity all around us.
© Gillygangle 2025
