Sadie
Sadie, white coat,
you carry me home.
And bury this bone,
take this pinecone.
Bury this bone
to gnaw on it later; gnawing on the telephone.
Ans ’till then, we pray & suspend
the notion that these lives do never end.
And all day long we talk about mercy:
lead me to water lord, I sure am thirsty.
Down in the ditch where I nearly served you,
up in the clouds where he almost heard you.
And all that we built,
and all that we breathed,
and all that we spilt, or pulled up like weeds
is piled up in back;
and it burns irrevocably.
And we spoke up in turns,
’till the silence crept over me
And bless you,
and I deeply do.
No longer resolute,
and I call to you.
But the waters go so cold,
and you do lose
what you don’t hold.
This is an old song,
these are old blues.
And this is not my tune,
but it’s mine to use.
And the seabirds
where the fear once grew,
will flock with a fury,
and they will bury what had come for you.
Down where I darn with the milk-eyed mender
you and I, and a love so tender,
is stretched-on the hoop where I stitch-this adage:
“Bless our house and its heart so savage.”
And all that I want, and all that I need..
And all that I’ve got is scattered like seed.
And all that I knew is moving away from me.
And all that I know is blowing like tumbleweed.
And the mealy worms,
in the brine will burn.
In a salty pyre,
among the fauns and ferns.
And the love we hold,
and the love we spurn,
will never grow cold,
only taciturn.
And I’ll tell you tomorrow.
Oh Sadie, go on home now.
And bless those who’ve sickened below,
and bless us who have chosen so.
And all that I’ve got,
and all that I need,
I tie in a knot,
and I lay at your feet.
And I have not forgot,
but a silence crept over me.
So dig up your bone,
exhume your pinecone, my Sadie.
October 26th, 2006 at 6:18 pm
TMT: One of my favorite and one of the most heart rending songs on your new record is “Sadie,” is there a story behind it?
JN: There are actually three stories; as with almost all of my songs, there’s this recurring triumvirate structure that imposes itself without my even realizing it at first. The three subjects are always connected, but often in merely intuitive or symbolic ways. In this particular song, the most straightforward subject is my then-dog, Sadie, who passed on recently. She was a lovely white Labrador who liked nothing more in the whole world than to play fetch. And I’ve always been impatient about that; I’d look at the soggy pinecone dropped at my feet while I was trying to get into my car, and I’d say, “I’ll play with you later.”
The second subject of the song is a friend, my age, who was diagnosed with cancer. I remember marveling at the reaction of people around me, the way they sprung to action, finally articulated to her their love and appreciation, finally made those lunch dates they’d always talked about…and I sheepishly include myself in this phenomenon. It wasn’t disingenuous; it was just that our collective illusion, that we have forever to let someone know how loved she is, had been shattered.
The third subject is one of my most beloved friends, whom I’ve grown apart from. We had this sort of running argument, or a running series of disagreements founded on the same fundamental points of divergence, and if we had been close at that point, talking every day or whatnot, then those disagreements would have seemed like nothing. But because our correspondence had fallen behind, and we’d developed insecurities and bitterness, these disagreements became all-consuming; we fixated on them, let resentments build around them, let a silence build between us. And I remember just having my breath taken from me in one sickening moment when I paused one day to imagine what I’d do if this friend fell ill with cancer, like my other friend. I knew that I would fly to be with her, stay by her side forever if I had to, and revel in her extraordinary rarity, intelligence, kindness, forget all the shitty stupid petty small points of contention between us, because they were so insignificant in light of our own inevitable mortality.
Complete interview here.
November 1st, 2006 at 3:58 pm
nice! Joanna Newsom’s sound has really grown on over the past couple weeks as i started digesting her new album. i’d never read any interviews with her, though, and I’ve got to admit that that was wonderful.
November 2nd, 2006 at 1:19 pm
Yeah…she’s got a really beautiful, albeit untrained and highly unique, voice.