I’ve been going through a lot of stuff, throwing out a lot of stuff, and came across this forgotten session, and liked it, was glad I found it, my nephew Daniel and I rehearsing before a performance, January afternoon, the first to be exact, western sun shining through the window, light reflected on the dusty coffee table, everything just the way it is.
I wrote the lyrics, Blue Sorrow, Green Sorrow, in my early twenties while I was working in a lock and key factory in North Philadelphia saving up money to travel to South America, which I did in 1973 and 74, Colombia, Ecuador and Peru.
The music for the words came later in my fifties when I started to play guitar, a waltz. Daniel liked the song so we did it. Akram recorded it, a little shaky at times perhaps, but from one end to the other, which for a song, is what counts.
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Blue Sorrow, Green Sorrow
You didn’t stay to sleep
I’m left with nothing to keep
as my windows fill with the dawn
Shall I lie still or rise
forget now or wonder why
already, already you’ve gone?
Who was it who spoke
through the wine and the smoke?
I recall three words and spare change
holding hands at our knees
so the drunks wouldn’t see
then stopping to kiss in the rain
Blue Sorrow, green sorrow
red sorrow tomorrow
What was it I wanted to say?
Good-bye is a whore
I’ve had her before
She slips so softly away
Dear Moses, strike the stone
draw the water from our souls
Your wandering multitude thirsts
I saw it come on black wings
take some children and Mr. King
but nothing and nobody heard
Blue sorrow, green sorrow
red sorrow tomorrow
What was it I wanted to say?
All these words that I sing
only cover the thing
and hide it completely away
