MotherOfExiles

See the old man in the doorway
Of his emptiness inside
His poverty cuts him
Thirsty and deep
Where the streets collide
He's got newspapers for a blanket
But the words don't carry no weight
His cough is abrupt
As the steam rises up
Through the sidewalk grate
He's just a shadow of himself
With no place to go
Nobody wants to know

Shes a thin rope of humanity
In the unemployment line
Her spirits still willing
But her dreams
Are running out of time
Shes been left to make
The place shes lost in
Something if she could
She keeps her desperation quiet
Not to wake the neighborhood
Shes swimming hard
Against the undertow
But nobody wants to know

And the old lady stares
Through the harbor glare
She never blinks
What does she think
As the flowers grow
Among the garbage down there
Where nobody cares
Where nobody cares

Theres destitution on the corner
Singing for a small handout
But no one can afford
To spend a dime
To what hes on about
He's playing it by ear these days
He's had to simplify
He's living in the best democracy
Money can buy
He pretends hes on the radio
But nobody wants to know

And the old lady stares
Through the harbor glare
She never blinks
What does she think
As the flowers grow
Among the garbage down there
Where nobody cares
Where nobody cares

Give me your tired and your poor
Your huddled masses to these shores
Those yearning to be free
Send those homeless tossed to me
I lift my lamp
Beside the golden door

Well they've closed down
All the factorys
And moved them overseas
Now he's living one step
Above the level
Of his mediocrity
Those damn illegal aliens
Stealing jobs just makes more strife
He forgets that his descendants came
To make a new life
Swallowed by the cracks
Its all undermined
The infected draw their blinds

                                      And the old lady stares
                                      Through the harbor glare
                                      She never blinks
                                      What does she think
                                      As the flowers grow
                                      Among the garbage the                                 down there
                                      Where nobody cares
                                      Where noboby cares

This song has had two distinct lives. In its first outing it was called 'Blackberry Winter', and the music and the lyrics were written by Mark back in the late summer, or early fall of 1974, when we both lived in a communal house on Midland Avenue in Paramus, New Jersey.

     Musically, the song is exactly the same in both of its incarnations. The lyrics that Mark had were very much like an abstract painting as I recall, with a pallet full of images and word play. It was a wonderful song that got played often when we performed live or for close friends
.
     Now, around 1989, I started work on a new song called 'Mother Of Exiles', which is another name given in reference to the statue of liberty. This was my very first overtly political song where I tried taking a few swings at several social issues. I had been listening to the radio for a while around this time wondering "Where have all the protest songs gone to?"

I was raised during the fifities and sixties on the social conciousness of the folk music movement which was part of my embedded awareness. It seemed to have died away

     One day when I was kicking back and relaxing I played an old cassette tape of music that we had recorded along with a good friend of ours, Steve Jordan, called 'The Attic Jam Tape' and basically 'rediscovered' Marks 'Blackberry Winter'. I had the lyrics to 'Mother Of Exiles' in front of me and couldn't believe how well the two different parts fit together! At the time I just had the song as a poem with no music in mind.

     I asked Mark if he minded doing a reworking of his song pushed off into another direction, and like a prince, he agreed to see where we could take it. Both of us are very open about that sort of thing anyway.

     In July of 2004 we both spent a considerable amount of time doing quite a few recording sessions until we captured this version that was put on 'The Roads Not Taken' CD. Peggy gave the song a distinct sound that set it apart on its own while paying homage to the original.

The first time I heard this song was when I had to producting it for the Witchwood CD. The first recording had snaps crackles and pops which I had to eliminate. Then they gave me a better recording but it was way too fast for the style of song. Mark and Doc recorded it once more and that is the version you find on tthe CD. I was suprised when I had tought I had it all ready when Doc told me to put even more phase shifter in it. I try to be more moderate with the effects because I love the sound of the phase so much I'm always afraid of overdoing it. I absolutely love this song. It has a more pagan sound than the others and the lyrics esp. the quote from the statue of liberty really gets me. I was confused by the verse about the illegal aliens it sounding to me like Doc was against them until Doc explained to me that it was referring to the bigoted and prejudiced ugly Americans we love to hate. I just love good a political/ social folk song.