I feel uneasy posting this song this week. In “Solomon Crane,” a song I wrote years ago, I express the thoughts of a man who feels fed up by the way he and his people have been treated by the distant powers that be. He’s had enough. It’s time to take a stand.
Like many in America and around the world, I felt heartsick as I saw the insurrectionists break into the Capitol building, after President Trump incited violent action against the lawful operation of our legislature. And all based on an obvious falsehood.
Yet, in this song, I give voice to a feeling of being left behind, of feeling marginalized and unlistened to by a smug, sophisticated elite. It’s a feeling, I believe, that has stoked the fires of rage in many of my fellow Americans.
I believe all feelings are valid, though not all actions are. It’s important to listen to feelings. Music and art are a good way to do so. At the same time, I believe reason, truth, and love light the best way forward.
In that spirit, I offer you “Solomon Crane.”
Lyrics
My name is Solomon Crane
I come from the shore.
I crossed through your desert to tell you
We don't want your help anymore.
You've taken our daughters to marry,
Sent our sons off to war.
We've withstood all a land can withstand
And we won't pay your price anymore.
Our backs are breaking,
Neath this unholy load
But our spirits are waking.
And if we fall, we won't fall alone.
We won't fall alone.
I've walked through your towers
And witnessed your sin
I've seen a man kill a man smiling,
Without losing an inch from his grin.
Your castles of crystal
And your streets paved with gold
Can't hide a spirit that's faking
Who's fire has long since grown cold.
Our backs are breaking,
Neath this unholy load
But our spirits are waking.
And if we fall, we won't fall alone.
We won't fall alone.
Though our houses are humble
And our soil is poor
We don't mistake freedom for comfort
And we never reap more than we sew.
My name is Solomon Crane
I come from the shore.
I crossed through your desert to tell you
We don't want your help anymore.
Our backs are breaking,
Neath this unholy load
But our spirits are waking.
And if we fall, we won't fall alone.
We won't fall alone.
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