"The Last day of June 1934" as written by and Alistair Ian Stewart....
The morning is humming, it's a quarter past nine
I should be working down in the vines
But I'm lying here with a good friend of mine
Watching the sun in her hair

I pick the grapes from the hills to the sea
The fields of France are a home to me
Ah, but today lying here is a good place to be
I can't go anywhere

But as we slip in and out of embrace
Like some old and familiar place
Reflecting all of my dreams in her face like before
On the last day of June 1934

Just out of Cambridge in a narrow country lane
A bottle-green Bentley in the driving rain
Slips and skids round a corner, then pulls straight again
Heads up the drive to the door

The lights of the party shine over the fields
Where lovers and dancers watch Catherine wheels
And argue realities digging their heels
In a world that's finished with war

And a lost wind of summer blows into the streets
Past the tramps in the alleyways, the rich in silk sheets
And Europe lies sleeping,
You feel her heartbeats through the floor
On the last day of June nineteenth

On the night that Ernst Roehm died voices rang out
In the rolling Bavarian hills
And swept through the cities and danced in the gutters
Grown strong like the joining of wills

Oh echoed away like a roar in the distance
In moonlight carved out of steel
Singing "All the lonely, so long and so long
You don't know how I long, how I long
You can't hold me, I'm strong now I'm strong
Stronger than your law"

I sit here now by the banks of the Rhine
Dipping my feet in the cold stream of time
And I know I'm a dreamer, I know I'm out of line
With the people I see everywhere

The couples pass by me, they're looking so good
Their arms round each other, they head for the woods
They don't care who Ernst Roehm was, no reason they should
Just a shadow that hangs in the air

But I thought I saw him cross over the hill
With a whole ghostly army of men at his heel
And struck in the moment it seemed to be real like before
On the last day of June nineteen thirty four


Lyrics submitted by webmasterdee

"The Last Day of June 1934" as written by Alistair Ian Stewart

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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The Last day of June 1934 song meanings
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    General CommentThe song visits three countries on June 30, 1934, the "Night of the Long Knives" in Germany.

    In a pastoral scene, a Frenchman is making love to his woman, skipping out on his work as a grape picker. He is remarkably contented and in love. His simple life is a good one.

    The scene then shifts to a wealthy estate in the area around Cambridge. English aristocrats are living a very high and sophisticated life, arguing abstract philosophical principles "in a world that's finished with war."

    Then we change scenes again first taking note of the fact that this is indeed the depths of the depression, and not everyone is as lucky as those in the first two sections. There is great poverty, and the economic misery is particularly acute in Germany where we land next.

    The death of Ernst Roehm was the final consolidation of power for the Nazis, folding the SA into the SS under Himmler, and killing all of the leadership of the SA. Roehm was a fascinating and monstrous character in his own right, and had protected Hitler in the Beer Hall Putsch, but had grown too powerful, to the point that evern the army feared his brownshirts. Once Roehm was out of the way, the Nazis were fully in control of Germany, and World War 2 became an inevitability.

    "...voices rang out
    In the rolling Bavarian hills
    And swept through the cities and danced in the gutters
    Grown strong like the joining of wills."

    Germany now felt its momentum undeniably, and the dream was truly alive.

    The voices say that the tenets of the Versailles treaty would now be brazenly ignored, "You can't hold me I'm strong now, I'm strong, stronger than your law."

    Then at the end the song shifts to the present day (well, the 1970s anyway). The poet says that he is standing by the Rhine dipping his feet in the cold stream of time. Even the Germans of the day know longer know or care who Ernst Roehm was, but the poet, a bit of a mystic, knows that his spirit is still there, and imagines he can see Roehm and his ghostly SA army of brownshirts.
    mgajoshon October 22, 2015   Link

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