These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Greetings from the Stoney End
Barbra Streisand has been in the news a lot lately. Her ticket prices, her politics, her dropping the "f bomb" from the stage. Whatever. I love her voice. I love most of her movies, but I completely love her music.
One of my favorite performances of hers is "Stoney End." The song was written by Laura Nyro, who also recorded it. So did Linda Ronstadt. But no one's performance touches Babs'. It's her passion, her rage, her pain that sets hers apart.
I've been listening to it a lot lately. It helps to know that Babs knows where I'm at, that Babs gets it. And she got far enough beyond it to charge up to $800/ticket and swear at people from stage. So there's still hope for me.
I was born from love and my poor mother worked the mines.
I was raised on the good book, Jesus, till I read between the lines.
Now I don't believe I want to see the morning.
Going down the Stoney End, I never wanted to go down the Stoney End.
Mama, let me start all over. Cradle me, mama, cradle me again.
I can still remember him with love light in his eyes,
but the light flickered out and parted as the sun began to rise,
now I don't believe I want to see the morning.
Going down the Stoney End, I never wanted to go down the Stoney End.
Mama, let me start all over. Cradle me, mama, cradle me again.
Never mind the forecast cause the sky has lost control,
cause the fury and broken thunder's come to match my raging soul,
now I don't believe I want to see the morning.
Going down the Stoney End, I never wanted to go down the Stoney End.
Mama, let me start all over. Cradle me, mama, cradle me.
Going down the Stoney End, I never wanted to go down the Stoney End.
Mama, let me start all over. Cradle me, mama, cradle me again.
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