song: CYCLE AND CHAIN

cycle & chain

A friend proposed a theory as to why much of nyc music is quiet. So many people, he conjectured, record in their small manhattan apartments, where walls are thin as paper, that they have to contain themselves musically.
Living with two roommates myself, I try to get my melodies out in a whisper. I've even been known to sing under my comforter to muffle the sound for my flatmates sakes.

So here is another quiet song that I wrote tonight.

It's definitely a first pass and I only put it out there now because I'm not sure when I will have a chance to come back and retool lyrics, music, etc.

It's based on a story some of you might recognize.

p.s. you might have to turn up the volume. if the song isn't loading at all, click the little music box and it should take you to the music page

Cycle & Chain

Twenty-five years ago a child was born,
A precious son.
Left to raise him alone, his mother clung
To her chosen one.

She escaped from a war torn nation with him
When he was just five years old,
To a place where she could protect him from the violence
That they both had known.

Mama saved and bought a home
Where it was calm,
Suburbia.

Gave Ahmed what she'd never known:
A fenced in lawn,
America.

Everyday, she stops and counts their blessings
And she kneels down to praise Allah.
Everyday, the world gets more depressing
And she thanks God for their concrete walls.

He's a man now, fully grown,
And his new nation is called to arms.
He says, mom I've got to go.
This country needs me.
And then he's gone.

The whole world that she built to escape from the past
Now comes crashing down.

Her whole life she spent to keep him safe from
The thing that takes him now.

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