On the latest Billboard 200 albums chart, Taylor Swift’s 1989 held firm at No. 1 for a fifth non-consecutive week, while AC/DC’s Rock or Bust debuted at No. 3. One more album arrived in the top 10: Mary J. Blige’s The London Sessions, which launched at No. 9……………………
………………….— Pink Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon – No. 13 — Thanks to ultra-cheap pricing in the Google Play store (where the classic set was discounted to 99-cents in the tracking week ending Dec. 7), the album zooms back onto the chart at No. 13. It moved just over 38,000 album equivalent units last week, comprised mostly of pure album sales (nearly 38,000; up 940 percent). That’s the album’s highest rank since the Oct. 15, 2011-dated chart, when it re-entered at No. 12 following a new deluxe reissue. With 889 weeks on the chart, it continues to rule as the album with most charted weeks in the history of the tally. The next-closest album, in terms of longevity, is Johnny Mathis’ Johnny’s Greatest Hits, with 490 weeks.

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.

So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I’d something more to say.

Run Rabbit Run!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Groan.
Here:
Daily Telegraph books of obituaries series

They’re all good. You won’t be able to stand/believe some of the things recollected.
I lead a boring live.

Neo, I have never seen Our Town, though I’ve had opportunities to record the movie. It seems now that I must. The part you quoted got to me. My dad died about 30 years ago, my wife about 20, our mothers about 10, and her dad just last year. Too soon the dying of the light.

http://americandigest.org/mt-archives/grace_notes/a_cutrate_resurrection.php

Then there is the business of premature obituaries …

“Captain Donald Alexander Malcolm Jr., 60, died Feb. 28, 2015, nestled in the bosom of his family, while smoking, drinking whiskey and telling lies. He died from complications resulting from being stubborn, refusing to go to the doctor, and raising hell for six decades. Stomach cancer also played a minor role in his demise.
Don cherished family above all else, and was a beloved husband, father and grandfather. He met his future wife, Maureen (Moe) Belisle Malcolm, after months at sea, crab fishing. He found her in his bed and decided to keep her.
Their daughter Melissa was born “early” six months later. They decided to have a boy a couple years later, and ended up with another daughter, Megan.
He taught his girls how to hold their liquor, filet a fish and change a tire. He took pride in his daughters, but his greatest joy in life was the birth of his grandson Marley, a child to whom he could impart all of his wisdom that his daughters ignored.
After spending his formative years in Kirkland, Wash. with a fishing pole in hand, Don decided his life’s calling was to yell at deckhands on commercial fishing boats in Alaska. As a strapping young man of 19, he moved to Dutch Harbor to fulfill this dream.
Over the next 40 years, Don was a boat cook, mechanic, deckhand, captain and boat owner. Although Don worked nearly every fishery in the Pacific Northwest at one time or another, his main hunting ground was the Bering Sea. He cut his teeth crabbing; kept his family fed by longlining halibut and black cod; then retired as a salmon gillnetter in Southeast Alaska.
Don had a life-time love affair with Patsy Cline, Rainier beer, iceberg lettuce salads and the History Channel (which allowed him to call his wife and daughters everyday in order to relay the latest WWII facts he learned).
He excelled at attempting home improvement projects, outsmarting rabbits, annoying the women in his life and reading every book he could get his hands on.
He thought everyone could, and should, live on a strict diet of salmon, canned peas and rice pilaf, and took extreme pride in the fact that he had a freezer stocked full of wild game and seafood.
His life goal was to beat his wife at Scrabble, and although he never succeeded, his dream lives on in the family he left behind.
Don is survived not only by his wife, daughters and grandson, but by his father, Donald Malcolm Sr; brothers Howard and Mike Malcolm; sisters Lisa Shumaker, Nicki White, Melinda Borg and Patsi Solano.
He also has many nieces, nephews, aunts and cousins who love him dearly, and deckhands who knew him.
He will be having an extended family reunion with his mother, Winifred Thorton; foster parents Marvel and Dutch Roth, brothers Larry and Steve Malcolm, sister Doodie Cake, and other assorted family and friends who died too young.”

May the circle be unbroken, by and by….