From the recording Plymouth Belvedere
I was sitting on an airplane in November 2005, reading a magazine article about the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. One particular image stimulated this song, then the lyrics grew to encompass short glimpses into two other life-changing situations.
Many thanks to my friend, Eric Brown, for contributing his talent with the harmonica.
He waded through the flooded streets
Heading back toward his home
With a half-crazed look in his sleepless eyes
He was all alone
He searched for his possessions
Small reminders of his wife
Finding nothing, he turned and faced
The rest of his life
How do we go on
When the life we knew is gone?
Though our faith may be in shreds
We pick up the tiny threads
And weave hope into the dawn.
She sat there in the small café
Tiny bundle in her arms
Wondering how and why she had let herself
Be taken by his charms
She could fall back on her parents
Or she could struggle on her own
The baby cried, she swallowed hard
And picked up the phone.
We start again every day
Never giving up, though we may lose our way
They quarreled in the other room
I was only ten years old
And their words were daggers of fire
Then they turned icy cold
My daddy packed a suitcase
Said he wanted to be free
By herself, my mama raised
My brother and me.
Copyright © Patricia B. Lester