We’re aware that some people couldn’t make it to the memorial service in Liverpool. We set up this online book of celebration to give anyone a chance to share their memories of Colin and his music, along with any messages for the family.
We have now closed the Book of Celebration to new entries but all previous entries remain below to view.
musica estara con nosotros siempre al igual q tu gracias por todo
Rest In Peace, my friend Colin. My condolences to the family.
In time the rose, and silver lilies die.
In time the monarchs captive are and thrall.
In time the sea and rivers are made dry.
The hardest flint in time doth melt asunder. 5
Still living fame, in time doth fade away.
The mountains proud, we see in time come under:
And earth, for aye, we see in time decay.
The sun in time forgets for to retire
From out the East, where he was wont to rise. 10
The basest thoughts, we see in time aspire.
And greedy minds, in time do wealth despise.
Thus all, sweet Fair, in time must have an end:
Except thy beauty, virtues, and thy friend.
Thank you for the images your music paints in my mind xxx
(Sry for my bad english)
Thank you Colín for this wonderful song, for your wonderful music and for your Wonderful life.
I'm sure that you and David, Glenn and Prince will play and sing together up in heaven. RIP and best wishes for your family.
There is no way that this makes you any justice but here it goes. Hope you like it, wherever you are. Happy birthday.
fields and roads
I saw you standing in the fields of England
on TV. Memories of 80's video clips in black and white.
Your shirt white, your sleeves rolled up, you said it's a wonderful life,
and that there is no need to laugh or cry
and you cross the meadow, wrap your long, dark coat
around you. And you walk on. You walk on.
We sang along in a bedroom in Spain,
the music loud. Your words, the friend I needed, not so alone.
I have loved to your music, it soothed me when the love was no more,
and it has made sense of the changes
as I went along. And it pushed me to walk on. Gritting my teeth at times, but I walked on.
I saw you walk along a lane in Ireland
on YouTube. You were carrying your guitar.
Some things never change: your tall body
covered with a long, dark coat.
Seemingly alone but, your head full of poetry,
you take us along, and you carry on. We carry on.
I hear about black ice in a road in Ireland
and a two-car crash. You are hurt.
For sixteen days I listened to your music - I can't pray.
I can only sing along, Colin,
I can only sing along, Colin,
I can only sing along, Colin, with you, in a car, all the way in America.
Comforted again, and terrified
(some constants in life are not constant after all)
at how fragile we are, how alone sometimes. How devastating some losses can be.
How seemingly impossible to go on.
I saw you standing by a road in Germany
talking to us. It's cold. Things are going well, and they look it.
You and your mate goof off and play with snow.
Some people need so little and give so much.
Be there or I won't see you, you playfully summon us
to Munich. I can't go on: the lump in my throat breaks, and I cry.
I see your coffin in the streets of Ireland
in good company. Some things, Colin, never change.
The best are too soon summoned.
I close my eyes and I see you walking, in black and white, across a field in England
There is a need, and I cry
and words fail, and I need your gentler, masterful ones...
Mine can only curse that road in Ireland that claimed you and saw you last.
Afterword: I read how others feel your departure, I still listen to your music,
and I smile and cry, for I understand: You are not here, but some things never do change.
Your music makes sense of it, and I am not so alone.
There is room on earth for angels in the sky after all:
There are so many hearts out here for you to live on. And you do. You do. You live on.