Hold My Hand, St Christopher

This song is about Amy Johnson’s famous flight from UK to Australia. Even though she didn’t manage to break the record for a solo flight, she broke a record for the quickest time to India, and by this time the media was hooked on her story. A journey, not without incident, trials or tribulations, Amy was completely overwhelmed by the media frenzy awaiting her in Australia, and the million strong crowd who were there to greet her on her return to England.

I’ve based this song loosely on a folk melody, which had been my earworm for a while. The lyrics began with me telling the story, but quickly morphed into Amy telling the story. To tell the story in any detail, the song would be several hours long, so I’ve judiciously cut out everything except for what I need to make the song work.

here’s my lyrics, as they were scrawled down:

and here’s me seeing if the lyrics fit:

Hold My Hand, St Christopher 
Croydon,just after sunrise, 
Goggles on, saying goodbyes,
Crank that beast, point her East, Hope the devil is on my side
Rush or air, propeller's whirring,
Gypsy Moth, engine purring, 
Throttle down, leaving town, Gonna be one hell of a ride

CHORUS:
This girls from nowhere's going somewhere. 
I haven't got there yet, 
Hold my hand, St Christopher, 
I'll need all the help I can get.

Nineteen days from here to there, 
They say I'm crazy, I don't care, 
The sky is mine, I'm doing fine, I'll make it through somehow
I've looked down on mountain peaks, 
Heard palm trees rustle, dined with sheiks,
Hugged my plane when the sandstorm came - If my friends could see me now 
CHORUS:

Baghdad - what are they saying?
Who's this girl? they're going to start paying
Attention to me, 'cos they can see something in my story
India - I'm worldwide news
Record times and new breakthroughs
This Hessle Road lass has now got class, and the world is rooting for me
CHORUS

Far East - more crash landings
Fix plane - I can sleep when I'm standing
They come to greet me in their finery when I land in Singapore
I'm weary, bedraggled and dusty
But hey - this is nineteen thirty
I'm here to show that anything goes, and I'm going to go some more
CHORUS

Last leg - can't fly any faster
Plane's wrecked, held together with plasters
We're tired and worn, but still airborne across the Timor Sea
Whoo Hoo! Darwin's getting nearer
Whoo Hoo! Landing strip is clear
I'm touching down, toast of the town, Who's that girl? It's me!