This is the finished version (for now) of a song I wrote long ago, following the suicide of a young woman who was an acquaintance. Valerie, in a moment of despair, threw herself from the Burrard Street Bridge. In the wake of this loss, I remember the keening and wailing of her close friends, Joanne and Nola, as the men drank and smoked heavily, trying to numb something we could not understand, but certainly felt guilty about. All this time later, Valerie is making herself known to me, again. But this is for my Margaret, who of late has been at the other end of my bad temper and self indulgent forgetting of who she is and how truly fortunate I am to have her in my life.

CRIPPLED BIRD

Valerie, won't you please me
Won't you walk with me tonight
As the wind and the trees make their music
Won't you tell me of your life

I have heard that you're a strange girl
And in the world you don't relate
Something tells me your mind is elsewhere
And to get there you can't wait

Crippled bird that you are you are lonely
And you're flying all alone
You keep trying to soar to heaven
But you're dropping like a stone

Valerie don't worry about a thing
Pretty soon you will hear the angels sing
Crippled bird don't you shed a tear at all
Pretty soon there'll be rivers of tears

Valerie are you home now
Are you happy where you are
You were much too fragile for this world
You belong among the stars

Crippled bird you are no longer
You have finally found your wings
Your eyes are dry and you are smiling
Down on those you left behind (less info)