Melissa Ruth: Songs

My Uncle

My uncle was born in ‘35
He lived hard and then he died
But in between that birth and that death
There was a life, there was a life

Born in a field on the Manitoba plains
He was a happy child, lived through the family name
Of suicide, so many lives
Lost or frayed
In that countryside they still remain.

The soil was black like gold in his hand
And he broke his back turning that land.
At night that boy listened to fiddle as it played
He drank whiskey by the fire in a house he made.

One day come knockin on his door,
A man, said this land ain’t yours no more.
My uncle said Mama, now, go on inside
The man said your daddy sold this land the day he died.

My uncle said no this land is all we know
The man said boy, you’ve got to go
Pack up Mama and leave your home
You’ve got to go
You've got to go.

So to the city they did go
He’d gone done just what he’d been told
And with no money and no home
Mama died and he was alone
On the corner he sold most of what he owned and he turned to bones
Yes, he turned to bones….

A man approached him he said I know what you need,
A job and whiskey and a little feed
So my uncle went to learn a trade,
Playin cards just like he weren’t afraid
And just when he’d learned how to win
The man took my uncle’s money and turned him in.

My uncle said no, this ain’t what I know
The jailer said Boy, put on these clothes
This is what you’ve done, this is where you go
And you’ve got to go
You've got to go.

So my uncle did his hard time,
Come out 20 years later he was 39.
He always tried to do what was right
But city life had him almost every night.
He never did learn how to let go
Of a memory, of a home.
He never gave into that old family name
But whiskey took him just the same.

Some say he’s worth nothing
Like dust on the fields.
I say he is worth something
Like dust on the fields.
He is dust on the fields.

copyright 2007