TWELFTH OF NEVER PREDICTED ARMAGEDDON!! BREAKING NEWS.

PAUL WEBSTER LYRICS LINKED TO MAYAN CALENDAR – DID HE KNOW?
Fifties hitster, lyricist Paul Webster, agonized over whether to panic the known world with his sudden but brilliant insight into our future. What to do?
With his covert but phenomenal psychic powers, way back in 1957, Webster was writing lyrics to a Jerry Livingston tune, saying clearly that our world would end in 2012. Of course he could abandon the simple lyrics and exploit his knowledge to make millions (or be labeled as a nutcase and persecuted). Still he owed it to our world to leave some clues as to our fate so that we might set our affairs in order
Finally, this tuneful genius, using the skills that served him so well in hit after hit, decided to stuff what he knew into a simple but ultimately annoying song: The Twelfth of Never: Genetic Engineering, Pesticides, Acid Rain, Demise Of The Book, they are all in there with a unforgettable worm of a tune, even the title a clear warning for what was to come. He never worried whether or not it would become a hit. That’s just the kind of guy he was.
“I’ll love you till the bluebells forget to bloom
I’ll love you till the clover has lost its perfume
I’ll love you till the poets run out of rhyme
Until the twelfth of never and that’s a *long, long time.”
(*55 years and then, BLOOEY!’ he thought in 1957 as he penned prophetic words).
ANALYSIS
Many people think the ending of the Mayan calendar in 2012 signifies the Mayans somehow knew the world ends then, less than two years away. Now it turns out they weren’t alone. There are little signs all over but perhaps the strangest is the prophecy stuffed into that beloved 50’s tune, once popular at engagement parties and weddings, The Twelfth of Never,
You wouldn’t think Paul Webster knew anything about the Mayan calendar when he wrote this song in 1957. Nor when he reached for what must’ve seemed eternal verities to express just how long his love would last. How could he have known all these forever things could vanish, simple things of nature without which we can’t imagine our world?
But the first line of his chorus promises to love, “till the bluebells forget to bloom.” Garden writer, Helen Yemm, warned recently in the Telegraph, “Trample with care – loss of habitat and poaching are destroying our bluebells.’ Not coming up in the spring can surely be classed as ‘forgetting.’

Then he promises to stop loving when, ‘the clover has lost its perfume.’ Like the Spanish Inquisition, nobody expected genetic engineering to go to work taking the scent out of such flowers as it continues to do.
As a clincher, he promises to love, ‘till the poets run out of rhyme.” Anyone in the fifties would feel safe in thinking this could never happen. Yet a recent Six Chix cartoon has Mother Goose being told by an English department: “No one will take you seriously as a poet if you rhyme.’ Just ask poets whether anyone publishes rhyme anymore.
The world was a different place back in 1957 when Webster chose bluebells, the scent of clover and rhyming couplets to prove eternal love, as they’d been around as long as human memory.
I heard the Twelfth of Never on the radio when it first came out, sitting on a blanket to admire the buttercups which seemed to button down our dry Okanogan soil like a vast tweed coat. It was spring and nature seemed a pretty solid thing in those days. Wild flowers came up reliably, year after year.
Nobody fiddled with nature then except for a little light testing of the atomic bomb at Los Alamos, New Mexico, just twelve years before Webster sat down to write. Is it significant, this twelve year gap? Is it yet another indicator that he meant the song to convey a hidden message? Given the declining bluebell, the genetically altered clover and poetry now a series of anagramic slams, was The Twelfth of Never meant to predict our doom now less than two years away? Listen to Webster.