Song of the Sad Whip-poor-Will (Hank Fisher/dennis O'Toole)

seems so long since I've heard a whip-poor-will

that I can scarce recall the sound

takes me back to a time when you loved me still

we lay on our backs on the ground...

and the stars up above were a witness to love

the wind sighed in sweet harmony

to the whip-poor-will's call when I pledged you my all

and you promised you'd always love me


spring faded to fall... the wild goose call

was my reason to wander and roam

to seek my fortune and fame

so you could proudly wear my name

while the whip-poor-will sane 'round our home.


I don't know how I survived when that letter arrived

and I saw that it was edged in black

"Blll; your darling is dead...".. were the words that I read

and all of my dreams were crushed by this fact


it seems so long since I've heard that sad ('ol) whip-poor-will

yet it seems the one sound I crave...

still the memories burn, (perhaps) one day I'll return

to stand, hat in hand; at her grave

I'll leave this dirty old town... sirens and factory sounds

for that little church yard on the hill

through my tears and pain... perhaps hear, once again...

the song of that sad whip-poor-will.

   ... well ... .this is an old timer; and yet the previous tune put me in mind of it; and by rare happenstance I could lay hand on it. From an old ledger that I transcribed some notebooks into while visiting my pal Rob Loree some time back. A 'co-write' as it turns out. ; with 'Washboard' Hank Fisher; himself a serious student of old time music. This ballad follows time honoured tradition and theme; as would the arrangement;were it ever to be recorded. 


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