Greg Murat (mur-rah)  
  Singer-Songwriter  Guitarist  

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Light Hearted Latin Jazzy Reggae Pop

I wrote this song at the time John Lennon was killed. It was pretty much stream of consciousness as I was thinking about the passing of a great artist and a great band and how we are tied to the past even when we try to move on. The song is also called "the dance of the pinkie" because of its intricate guitar work and it is one of my favorite songs to play.

GONE TO YESTERDAY

It's a warm, warm feeling
From my head down to my toes
Is it just a waking dream or am I to suppose
That the woman that's been loving me
Is bringing in the tide
I can feel my love is rising
And there ain't no place to hide
Yea Yea No place to hide

I don't read the papers
Cause they just give me the blues
To see or not to see, not to see is what I chose
The Beatles became the present past
See how they interplay
And far too many lovers' dreams have
Gone to yesterday Yea Yea
Gone to yesterday

I wonder just what's going on
Down behind the news
Is it really meant to clarify
Or simply to confuse
What is real is what I see
Before my very eyes
I can feel my love is rising
And there ain't no place to hide
Yea Yea No place to hide

I don't need the papers if I'm looking for the news
To see or not to see, to be or not to be, you chose
The Beatles became the present past
See how they interplay
And far too many lovers' dreams have
Gone to yesterday Yea Yea
Gone to yesterday
Down behind the news

Life is made of days and some are full and some are hollow
In loving, as in living, some will lead and some will follow
The how and the why and the where of love
Have always baffled me
But when my lover's calling
It's hard to let it be
No, I just can't let it be

I don't read the papers 'cause they just give me the blues
To see or not to see, what we see is what we chose
The Beatles became the present past
See how they interplay
And far too many lovers' dreams have
Gone to yesterday Yea Yea
Gone to yesterday

It's a warm, warm feeling
From my head down to my toes
Is it just a waking dream or am I to suppose
That the woman that's been loving me
Is bringing in the tide
I can feel my love is rising
And there ain't no place to hide
Yea Yea No place to hide

They've all gone, gone, gone to yesterday
Gone to yesterday Yea Yea

Words and Music by GREG MURÁT ©1980
Publishing rights Spare Change Music (BMI)
All Rights Reserved

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