Monday, July 27, 2020


I spent a year living in the Caledon Hills in this big, funky house in the middle of a 33 acre field... long dirt driveway, etc. etc. I was working in Bill Davis's law firm in Brampton... Tho once he was Premier he had to disassociate himself from the firm... Did a lot of real estate in those days, but I digress. I spent many long hours by myself in this amazing place with a 2 story stone wall, huge hearth.... Hell, if you swallowed some hallucinogen and started reading Shakespeare in the place beside this tall stone structure --- you thought you were THERE in the play... and you got to know the characters (people) who were like neighbours... ...But I digress.
I wrote some of my best songs there in that atmosphere of drama, solitude, and loneliness. I'd go and sit on a stump in the middle of the field and start to write. I wrote COLD, COLD, COLD there, and also: "HYMN TO PAN DIONYSUS" I also wrote, "NO REST FOR THE INNOCENT", a song I'm still trying to find. None of these songs are short songs. But I make no apologies for this. They are all exceptional songs. I say this in all modesty...Ha! Ha!
At any rate, here's one version of COLD, COLD, COLD, which I like, especially with Peter Rowland's guitar solo... tho I think the song otta really be produced in 2/4. More on this later.
(C)1990-2017 by W.G. Milne and John Rock Corporation. All rights reserved.
This song is not just me dicking around with my own songs --- this song is about the North and about the nature of Canada.
It's easy to see why I say this... when you see the landscape, visit the small towns, and hear the words.
The song is bigger than I am, and was always meant to be.
(C) 1990-2017 by W.G. Milne and John Rock corporation. All rights reserved.


GET ME A ROCKING CHAIR by W.G. Milne - Johnny Rock and the Angels

Terry Lucenti on lead guitar.

The band is cooking tonight.


The delight I feel upon discovering that the place I am in
is better than the place I had
dreamed of.

Monday, July 13, 2020


Anna is
the hot summer wind
before the fall

a moist day
sunset through the Euchalyptus
broadleafed and vibrant
the wind tossing her
like an unmade bed

Anna is the nightwind
up from the lake
black as the night

she is the summer evening
humid and hot
before the storm...
lightning in her groin

Anna is... the
hot buttery sun
blowing through windows
raining gold 
on our sheets

Anna is.

(C) 1970 by W.G. Milne

Friday, July 10, 2020

ALLISON MOORER Carrickfergus

As I see it, this song is about a person in Ireland languishing for his/her love across the sea in Scotland.
       "Only for nights in Ballygrand"   this I guess is the place where they had their love trysts.
             All his old friends (happy times) are dead and gone.
             "Soft is the grass & my bed is free." A place to lie down and die.
                In Killkenny you can find black headstones... which he'll need soon.  "I am sick now and my days are numbered.

"Soft is the grass - my bed is free."   

A very moving song

also sung by Loudon Wainwright III

Saturday, June 13, 2020


This song was written on the road - taking a trip by car down the east coast of the United States... from Toronto south, sleeping by the ocean in a station wagon I had. Down through Carolina, Georgia and into Florida, across Florida to the gulf. Panama city was seen as Paradise by a street character in one of my stories...But he'd never been there. So I thought I'd better see the one in Florida. I'd been to the Panama City in Panama... Sleeping on the gulf coast I saw lightning crossing the ocean towards us... and a heron standing very still in the water by the shore. We went as far as New Orleans and stayed there a few weeks during Mardi Gras. The song is called: THE WINDS OF CHANGE, THE WIND REMAINS(C)1980-2017 by W.G. Milne. Once again the tape speeding up has made my voice too high. But I love some of the lyrics in this one, so despite imperfections, here's the song anyway. Hope you may enjoy.

My sweet sister Deborah died last week. The lines

- "I remember that rag doll you used to hold,
You used to hold it - to your breast"

These are dedicated to her.


Your starlight pierces through the mind
Celestial, chaste like the wood,
the poor wood I found second hand
Where now I read infinity;

Oh, completion is the goal,
          the present goal:
We have this day
          this moment only;

You ask how I know the 
Of symphonies I've never

The secret is, "Listen,
Don't try to hear,"
I greet you all
          I greet you here
In this place of

Praise to the One
          above us all
The source and end of mystery;
O now I do; I feel you
As I write your history.

Wednesday, May 27, 2020




My beloved sister, Deborah Elizabeth Milne, died in Toronto yesterday of natural causes.