> Cyril Tawney > Songs > The Bitter-Sweet Bed (A Girl’s Song)

The Bitter-Sweet Bed (A Girl’s Song)

[Cyril Tawney]

Cyril Tawney wrote The Bitter-Sweet Bed (A Girl’s Song) in 1966. It is printed in the Cyril Tawney Songbook.

Chris While sang Bitter-Sweet Bed in 1993 on The Albion Band’s HTD album Acousticity, and recorded it in between November 1995 and June 1997 for Tawney’s 1997 Neptune Tapes cassette Man of Honour which was reissued in 2013 on a Talking Elephant CD. Cyril Tawney noted:

I chipped away at this one, on and off, for three-and-a-half years before I felt it was right. A seduced woman lies in labour, faced with the prospect of becoming a deserted single parent. No song for a male to sing, so (not for the first time) Chris While, with Joe [While] on keyboards, did me the great honour of breathing life into it. Special thanks, though, are also due to Plymouth’s Meg Henderson, who took the song up soon after it was completed back in 1966. These two apart, female singers have tended to back off from the song for some reason. It was brought to life once more with Chris While on the Albion Band’s rendition of it with their Acousticity album in 1993.

Lyrics

Chris While sings Bitter-Sweet Bed

They told me ev’rything and nothing,
They fed me wisdom all the way,
Each friendly word that flowed into my breast
Remained to build a burden there instead.
When I came to my bitter-sweet bed, my love,
When I came to my bitter-sweet bed.

You sent your honey vows before you
To breathe away the clouds of shame.
Then as my fingers fanned a robe around your shoulders
And a halo for your head,
You were God on my bitter-sweet bed, my love,
You were God on my bitter-sweet bed.

However freshly turned the furrow,
However newly sown the seed,
That same sweet soil was ploughed a million times
Before we came by babies old and dead, my love.

Now the pain it pulls upon me
Where are your ivy arms now?
The hand that reaches out for yours
Can only close upon a stranger’s palm instead
As I lie on my bitter-sweet bed, my love,
As I lie on my bitter-sweet bed.

However freshly turned the furrow,
However newly sown the seed,
That same sweet soil was ploughed a million times
Before we came by babies old and dead, my love.

And now the pain it pulls upon me
Oh, where are your ivy arms now?
The hand that reaches out for yours
Can only close upon a stranger’s palm instead
As I lie on my bitter-sweet bed, my love,
As I lie on my bitter-sweet bed.