Friday Noir: Riches Squandered


We met down in the valley,

Where the wine of love and destruction flows.

There in that curve of darkness,

Where the flowers of temptation grow.

I left the rest for the others.

It was you and nothing else.

You felt so good to me, baby, as good as life itself.

You were life itself, rushing over me.

The wind in the black elms.

Rushing over me.

In your heart and in your eyes, I can’t make it without you.

I knew you were in trouble.

Anyone could tell.

You carried your little black book, from which all your secrets fell.

You squandered all your riches, your beauty and your wealth.

Like you had no further use,

For life itself.

Rushin’ over me.

Why the things that we treasure most..

Slip away in time?

‘Til to the music we grow deaf,

And to God’s beauty blind.

Why do the things that connect us…

Slowly pull us apart?

‘Til we fall away in our own darkness,

Stranger to our own hearts.

So here’s one for the road, here’s one to your health.

And to life itself…

Rushing over me.

In your heart and in your eyes.

I can’t make it without you.

Riches squandered.

We cannot undo what we’ve done.

© Mark V. Krajnak | JerseyStyle Photography | All Rights Reserved 2013


The next in my Springsteen And Noir series – images influenced by songs or lyrics from Bruce Springsteen.

1) Boardwalk Plans

2) Further On Up The Road

3) Pitch Black Night

I didn’t expect this one. Some Friday Noirs come to me easily, like a lover at the door in the midnight hour.

Others, I have to work at, to swing the ax, to chip away, to mine.

This one, I had the image tht I wanted to use this week.

But no words.

Then, I was in the gym and Life Itself came on my iPod.

This is a song off the the Working On A Dream album, one heavy in the themes of life passing by, redemption, more hopeful, less bleak as some past Springsteen albums, according to the NY Times.

Some songs, yes, are hopeful. Not this one if you ask me.This has noir written all over it. I’ve often said Bruce Springsteen, whether he knows it or not, put lyrics to noir. Songs of desparate and dying (literally or figuratively) men, women that want better, both that want more.

Lost loves, faded dreams, trying to get to the top of the mountain only to be mired in the glop of life.

As I listened to this song, again and again, in the gym and then in my car, I got excited. Because I had found the story to this image.

Or so I think.

Maybe it’s just me willing it to be.

Maybe you agree as well.

Maybe you don’t.

But here’s a man – not in B&W this week; more faded noir – that is looking out from his place in the world and wondering what happened.

What happened to the life that was laid out in front of him?

He had it all figured out, blew on the dice, shook them in his fist….

Rolled them….

And now…


Life. Itself.

Bruce’s song seems to match up well here.

What do you think?

© Mark V. Krajnak | JerseyStyle Photography | All Rights Reserved 2013


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