Morning dove, come fly to me
I will sing your harmony
‘Til the night replace the day
I will sing your song your way
Nightingale, I hear your trill
‘Neath the stars, the night is still
Gentle breeze you call to me
I will sing your harmony
‘Til the sun begin to rise
And we open sleepy eyes
Whippoorwill, your melody
Joins our song, the dove and me
Copyright 1984 Caroline Abbitt Sauer
As a fellow singer-songwriter, it makes it sometimes harder and sometimes easier to write about someone else’s music. I feel that I have known Bob Dylan since 1963. I remember the first time I got his Freewheeling with my Dad who was not a Dylan fan then, but after a while his voice got a hold of you with his talking blues caught you somehow and forced you to listen. I never had an inkling that he could sing on the pitch, on the note as he does in this new album of his, Fallen Angels. I never had any idea that his voice would be so appealing.
I still tend to play Highway 61 Revisited when trying to get back in the spirit of starting on a new project, painting, or something less creative. I am entirely sure this new recording makes me want to sit back and remember about past relationships and wonder about those I still want to make in the future.
Mr. Dylan, in his gracious manner, has brought back into pop music, the notion of a love song. He may also bring back something that I have missed, slow dancing, which is a great way to get up close to talk to someone, a strange thing to do these days when everyone types instead of talking. The songs chosen are classic love songs, ideal for his very lovely voice, which surprised my Dad and made the songs so appealing.
These are the songs
More than anything this means to me that anyone, especially Bob Dylan, can always reinvent themselves, as we get older. This seems as dramatic a shift as when he went from folk to electric at Newport in 1965. He came to Austin in ’65, too. I remember the people then who walked out when he brought out The Band, but I was one of the ones who stayed. I loved his change then, and I love this now!
Long ago in a Southern State,
Known as Mississippi-é
Twas a rambling man with a sunny smile
Who could sing & make up songs most effort-less-ly
Like a bird can fly through the empty sky
And the flowers bloom with a sweet perfume
Was a natural fact with Jimmie Rodgers tunes
Y’ left your troubles back in the other room
When the brakeman sang a yodel refrain
You got your own free ride on a magic train
Oh lee a lay eee, Ah lee a lay eee
Yoda dee a lay ee, Dah lay eee Dah lay eee, Yoda lay eee
It don’t matter who you are or if you’re troubled in your mind
Leave your worries at the station and your sorrow behind
With the rhythm of the rails and the clickin’ of the track
Put your smile on forward got no turnin’ back
Like a bird can fly through the empty sky
…
It was a long hard day back in 33
When the Lord took Jimmie with that old T.B.
They put his poor old body on a train so long
All the people come to see him take his last train home
Like a bird can fly through the empty sky
…
Some where out there in no where that distant train still rides
Where the coyote sings his lonesome song
And the birds harmonize up in the sky
It’s been 70 years but you can hear the cry
Of his last blue yodel as he passes by
Oh lee a lay eee, Ah lee a lay eee
Yoda dee a lay ee, Dah lay eee Dah lay eee, Yoda lay eee
© 2017 Caroline Abbitt Sauer
I remember how I followed you
It seemed you knew the way
We visited those secret streets
Where lovers stop and stay
But time wore out the love we had
Until it wasn’t there
As I walk on alone tonight
I think of what we shared
You said you were upset by the truth
But I looked into your diamond eyes
And saw confusion too
It took me years to figure out
What you always knew
Some day I’d have a different point of view
I’ve studied and I’ve stumbled on
To different things since then
I’ve tried to keep my temper down
My heart is on the mend
I’m learning to pipe down when I have
Nothing more to say
You laugh, but I’m much better off today
Some times I get distracted by
The day to day routine
Then turn around and wonder what
The hell does it all mean
But you know that and all I’ve got
To say then
Is I remember you and how you were when
Copyright 1984 Caroline Abbitt Sauer
