Working Girl Blues (12 page)

This was written in the early ‘70s for one of my sisters. She married a coal miner and had nine children. But except for maybe the very early years, it never seemed to be a good marriage. She had to work really hard all her life. Before she married, she worked as a domestic, cooking and cleaning for the bosses at the mines, and later in a factory and laundry. One day during a visit to my parents' house in Baltimore, she took me upstairs and told me how she was mistreated by her husband. He told her that she was no more than a maid to him, and that if it wasn't for the cleaning and cooking she did, he would have thrown her out long ago. I was absolutely furious. I asked her to move out and come to Baltimore to live with us, and that we'd take care of her. But she wouldn't do it, mainly because of the children. She never left him. He died of black lung, and she died of breast cancer. She was one of the best and most loving persons I've ever known. This song is for her.

If you don't think she's had it hard my friend

Just take a look at where this woman's been

Take a look at her old worn-out calloused hands

Take a look at loneliness that never ends

Old calloused hands don't bring you much cheer

When they're all you've got to show for bygone years

A few kind words a love song to draw near

But her hard times didn't leave such souvenirs

Now she worked hard and slaved her life away

For her husband and for her family

Now she's shoved aside like some old worn-out shoe

That's her reward for all that she's been through

Her tears you'll never see 'neath all that pride

And the things she long hoped for she's put aside

I look at her and Lord I wanna cry

To think how many times that woman died

Old calloused hands don't bring you much cheer

When you're left behind like all the forgotten years

A few kind words a love song to draw near

But her hard times didn't leave such souvenirs

 

Rocking Chair Blues

Sometime in the late '60s, I wrote this song about my parents. They had eleven children, and after the last one left home, following several other brothers and sisters up to Baltimore, Maryland, my parents decided to move up there as well. Most of the children were in Baltimore, except for three who stayed in West Virginia and never moved away. So my parents left West Virginia for good and moved up to Baltimore. They were happy to be near their children, but unfortunately they never did take to city life, and didn't really fit in. They were old-fashioned and set in their ways and stayed home a lot unless they went to church. Most of their friends were from the church
and they were few in number. They missed the old crowd back home who they'd known most of their lives, especially the members from their church. So in their declining years my father said to my mother, “Sarah, let's catch the Greyhound and go back and see the mountains and our old friends one last time.” They took that farewell trip back to West Virginia, and that was the last time they went home. They passed away in '78 and '79, nine months apart, and are both buried in Baltimore.

Rock on rock your blues away

Old rocking chairs help pass the time of day

Your kids have gone their way, it's the price you pay

Old and in the way is here to stay

There ain't gonna be no chance to turn around

There's more yesterdays than tomorrows left now

And when your number's called, the lid on your casket falls

There's no more crying no more dying for you—you know

So let those old memories come on around

Well they're all you've got to hang on to now

Hair as white as snow, your old mind just comes and goes

But it can't bring back a thing but memory

Rock on the new home you have found

Is a run down apartment in the cheapest part of town

You'd give everything you own

For those old-timey friends back home

And one last look at the hills where you used to roam

Let those old memories come on around

They're all you've got to hang on to now

Hair as white as snow your old mind just comes and goes

But it can't bring back a thing but memory

Let those old memories come on around

'Till it's time to lay your tired old body down

He will gently bid you come

Where no parting songs are sung

And all your crying and your dying will be done

 

Pretty Bird

“Pretty Bird” was about the same kind of situation that inspired “Scars from an Old Love.” I spent a lot of time trying to get up the nerve to trust someone again. I was thinking that I wanted to be a liberated woman, and do all those things that liberated women do. I dated a few guys who were “supposedly” willing to give me that kind of space, but I found that I wasn't as ready for it as I thought I was. I was still a somewhat backwoodsy little girl still partially tied to the old ideas and constraints. But another part of me very much needed to be free of them so I could enjoy my new life and freedom. It was a crucial time in my life, a time of growth and learning, of leavings and beginnings. Coming from such an isolated area and a different culture, I felt like I was always trying to play catch-up in my life and workplace. I envied the little bird sitting on the high wire. It could fly away at any given moment and be free. So in 1972 I wrote this song.

Fly away little pretty bird

Fly fly away, fly away little pretty bird

And pretty you'll always stay

I see in your eyes a promise

Your own tender love you'll bring

But fly away little pretty bird

Cold runneth the spring

Love's own tender flames warms this meeting

And love's tender songs you'd sing

But fly away little pretty bird

And pretty you'll always stay

I cannot make you no promise

Love is such a delicate thing

Fly away little pretty bird

For he'd only clip your wings

Fly away little pretty bird

Fly fly away

Fly away little pretty bird

And pretty you'll always stay

Fly far beyond the dark mountain

To where you'll be free ever more

Fly away little pretty bird

Where the cold winter winds don't blow

 

Mount Zion's Lofty Heights

This song came to me in the late '60s right out of the blue. I have no idea where it came from. It was a very easy song to write, probably because I grew up hearing a lot of hymn singing. I only sang it a few times, but I don't believe I ever sang it on stage. I didn't even get around to recording it until I made the new project with Rounder in 2004.

Mount Zion's lofty heights there stands

A bright and peaceful place

Where weary souls can rest so free

Amid His loving grace

The day is near, the hour is nigh

The sheep with restless, mournful cries

They long to journey there tonight

Mount Zion's lofty heights

The narrow pathway's steep and rough

The wayside dangers fright

Within the vineyard of His love's

Mount Zion's lofty heights

The spirit from this poor trembling soul

From this earthly mortal man

Will fly on wings of heavenly doves

On lofty heights to stand

 

Cowboy Jim

Sometimes when I went to Baltimore to visit my parents, at some point during the weekend my father would get out the Baptist songbooks and we would sing for a while. Often I would find a song that had interesting lyrics, especially the poetic ones, and I would ask him to teach me the melody. So he became more interested in teaching the tunes to me when he realized I was serious about learning the old songs. He would also try to remember other types of songs as well. On this particular day, probably in late 1963, he began to sing an old cowboy song, but due to a fading memory he could only recall a line or two. So he said, “You take it and make a song out of it, and give it that old lonesome sound.” He liked old-time music and was an old-time banjo picker in his younger days. So I took what little he sang and wrote “Cowboy Jim.” When I recorded it in the '60s, I think he was surprised, but proud, that I actually wrote the song and that he had been part of it.

Out on the range I rode one day

Looking for cowboy Jim

There I spied the girl I loved

Riding the range with him

They were singing old songs that we used to sing

And I knew she had done me wrong

So I turned my old Pinto around again

And I rode all night long

Chorus:

Won't you come down, down in town pal

Good times for you and me

Forget your old gal you know she's cold pal

You know she's been untrue

One bright evening as the sun went down

This cowboy was feeling low

Sitting there talking to my partner Joe

He said cowboy you sure look blue

Repeat Chorus

 

Little Lenaldo