I wrote this song back in 1997 while I was living in New Orleans on the corner of Bourbon Street and Ursulines (the old “Slave Quarters”). Recorded 2005.
I will always know the glory of the beautiful and rare,
as they will know security from labour and prayer.
As they will hear the laughter of the children they gave life,
I will know the torments of the song born under knife.
And to their girls, they will give,
while with their sons they’ll share;
where I will bear a song—a son!
The wife of despair.
SAUL FROM THE WANDERESS: “When I was younger,
I would cling to life because life was at the top of the
turning wheel. But like the song of my gypsy-girl, the
great wheel turns over and lands on a minor key. It is
then that you come of age and life means nothing to
you. To live, to die, to overdose, to fall in a coma in
the street… it is all the same. It is only in the peach
innocence of youth that life is at its crest on top of
the wheel. And there being only life, the young cling
to it, they fear death… And they should! …For they
are in life.”
― Roman Payne
(The Wanderess, Chapter XVII)
Back in 2009 I recorded this excerpt from my novel, new at the time, Rooftop Soliliquy… On “The Coming of Spring”…