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Lyrics page [pdf] [ogg] [mp3]

Quiet Victories

© Stephen Savitzky. Creative Commons by-nc-sa License Some Rights Reserved.

Sit down with me and talk a while;
And please believe me when I say
I don't need much to make me smile,
Just tell me how you spent your day.
I don't need tales of heros bold
Gentle lady, tell to me,
Some tale of yours you've never told;
About some quiet victory.

    Forget heroic fantasy
    That's not the tale I need to hear,
    Tell me of quiet victory
    Of love and life against your fear.

Don't tell me of the Amazon
The battle-lust hot in her breast;
Just tell me what the mirror showed: 
A warrior's scar across your chest.
Would he still love you after that?
Would you die beneath the knife?
The cancer gave you Devil's odds;
You rolled the dice and won your life.

    And still you see your friends and kin
    Make their throw, to lose or gain
    Against the old familiar foes
    Grief and fear and death and pain.

Don't tell me of the shieldmaid bold,
Her laughter in the face of death
I'll take the smile you gave your son
To cheer him as he fought for breath.
No matter that your heart was filled
With fear you gamely had to hide;
No matter what it cost to spend
The next two days there at his side.

    You tell me that it wasn't hard,
    Snd it was love that saw you through.
    Yes, I believe you when you say
    It's what a mother has to do.

I've heard you sing a Goddess' praise
On Athens' ramparts standing fast;
What did your grey-eyed lady sing
When she proclaimed her love at last?
What does it cost you two to share
A love that half the world despise?
What did it take to tell your Mom
And face the anger in her eyes?

    It's not a myth you're living now
    The hate you'll face is all too real;
    You'll make it through the coming years
    With hearts of glass and nerves of steel.

That tale of dwarves, and rings of gold,
Dragons flying through the air
Is that the movie that your girl
Was watching in intensive care?
And when at last she's home again,
You dread the word you'll have to say:
She asks, can she walk home from school?
You swallow hard, and say ``OK''.

    Tires squeal all afternoon;
    Tbe sirens make your blood run cold.
    She'll be a woman all too soon;
    You let her grow up strong and bold.

instrumental

    Forget heroic fantasy
    That's not the tale I need to hear,
    Tell me of quiet victory
    Of love and life against your fear.

    Here's to the women, gently brave
    Mothers, daughters, lovers, wives,
    And to the quiet victories
    We seldom notice in their lives.

Notes:

The last week, and especially this weekend, has been rather exhilarating. This song is still very rough around the edges; expect both the lyrics and the music to evolve a little. (The first four lines finally showed up about two hours ago.) And until I got a second opinion this morning, I really had no idea whether it was any good. You'll always find the latest version on the song's official web page.

[Verse 2] With all due respect to the brave ladies on LJ, one of whom made the post that started me down this road, my Mom earned her Amazon's scars half a century ago. The odds weren't nearly as good then as they are now, but she beat them. The Amazons, in Greek legend, were reputed to amputate the right breasts of their children in order to strengthen the right arm and shoulder.

Verses 3 and 4 were inspired by particular people and incidents, though I've played fast and loose with the facts a little. If you want to be officially acknowledged, please say so in a comment. If you'd rather not, I'll understand.

[Verse 4] My daughter spent a month in the hospital after being hit by a truck walking home from school. One of her favorite videos was my bootleg tape of Wagner's Siegfried.

This song was largely inspired by the last few weeks on and off LJ, though it's pulled in a few other things along the way. It could easily have been two or three times as long, and may yet; I have the feeling that this tale may grow in the telling.

Future posts on related subjects will have the qv tag; feel free to use it. You're also welcome to the icon (ganked from Wikipedia -- seemed appropriate).

Your comments are very welcome. Did you see yourself here? Do you have a totally different story to tell? I want to hear. But if you want to tell me that you weren't being courageous, that it wasn't hard at all, that you didn't have to think twice about what you did--well, go ahead, but that's kind of the point, isn't it? Stand up and take a bow anyway.

6/10 5:30am Stupid, stupid bear. The [mp3] link will work now.

And if you want to record it, just drop me a note -- and a copy of the CD -- and send the royalties to an appropriate charity.

Date: 2008-06-10 08:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] angharads-house.livejournal.com
oh, my -- this is beautiful work. thank you, for reasons various and unfathomable.

Date: 2008-06-10 09:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tibicina.livejournal.com
This is really beautiful. Sometimes the quiet victories are the hardest.

Date: 2008-06-10 11:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mrgoodwraith.livejournal.com
Inspiring, superior work, sir. Thanks for this!

Date: 2008-06-10 12:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] allisona.livejournal.com
Really lovely! Hope to hear it sometime.

Date: 2008-06-10 01:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] min0taur.livejournal.com
Amazing, man. I try to imagine singing it all the way through without tearing up, and can't. But sing it anyway.

Date: 2008-06-10 01:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] pocketnaomi.livejournal.com
I'm stunned and honored that you included me. Things are still not exactly comfortable with the parents, but they are thankfully getting better.

Date: 2008-06-10 02:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] catsittingstill.livejournal.com
Wow. I had to stop playing it in the library because it was making me cry. I'll play it when I get home, though.

Date: 2008-06-10 02:25 pm (UTC)
ext_3294: Tux (raven)
From: [identity profile] technoshaman.livejournal.com
Mine will go to Susan G. Komen for the Cure.

Thank you. Given that two of my favorite musicians (and very fine people) have issues in that direction, that means a lot right there.

Oh #&*$(&

Date: 2008-06-10 02:30 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] capplor.livejournal.com
Yes, you stupid bear. That song SHOULD travel far.

Date: 2008-06-10 03:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dejla.livejournal.com
It's gorgeous. Brought tears to my eyes.

Date: 2008-06-10 08:40 pm (UTC)
filkferengi: (Default)
From: [personal profile] filkferengi
That is a splen*dif*erous song, that should be sung lots & lots!

Speaking of which, you *are* coming back to Conflikt next year, aren't you?

Date: 2008-06-10 10:08 pm (UTC)
filkferengi: (Default)
From: [personal profile] filkferengi
Woot! With side helpings of win, glee, & squee.

Date: 2008-06-10 10:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rowanf.livejournal.com
Love the words. Felt the voice mic needed to be up a bit, as I'm sure it will be in a more polished recording. :-) The River's mp3 was inaudible, I'm afraid.

And not to discourage charitable giving... but Komen? They have consistently blocked patient's rights initiatives, try to de-link cancer from environmental causes (other than blame-the-patient -- diet). article on alternet. I heard such horror stories about them when I did a stint as a medical librarian that I just had to say something.

Date: 2008-06-10 11:12 pm (UTC)
ext_18496: Me at work circa 2007 (Default)
From: [identity profile] thatcrazycajun.livejournal.com
I am awed and jealous. Magnificent work, sir.

Date: 2008-06-13 05:45 pm (UTC)
ext_12246: (Loiosh)
From: [identity profile] thnidu.livejournal.com
I passed your reply to my comment on the original post on to [livejournal.com profile] dunkelpig. She writes:
Thank you. It is a lovely song, and I am touched to have been thought of.

Margaret Mead, in Blackberry Winter, writes of the courage it takes for a mother to watch her child climb a tree, and cheer her on, while being terrified in her heart. It always seemed to me the perfect summation of raising children.

I don't know [your mom] well: I just like her enourmously.

Love,
[dunkelpig]

Date: 2008-06-14 02:52 am (UTC)
ext_12246: (Default)
From: [identity profile] thnidu.livejournal.com
I know, and my lady used it in her note. I redacted it in the comment because that's what I always do on LJ unless I know for sure that someone's OK with having the name used.

Date: 2008-06-13 06:00 pm (UTC)
ext_12246: (Loiosh)
From: [identity profile] thnidu.livejournal.com
I just listened to it here (at work). I had to stop my typing at "walk home from school..."

OMG. Downloading to play to my lady.

Thank you, name-half-brother ;-).

Date: 2008-06-18 07:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mbumby.livejournal.com
And this is why I'm glad I'm obsessive about catching up on EVERYTHING rather than saying "bankrupt pants oh well". I think I recognized only one of the inspirations, but have seen echoes from most of them all my life. Thank you.

Date: 2008-06-20 06:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mbumby.livejournal.com
Thank you. And I was right -- I did only recognize one of your inspirations (c&p) from my recent flist -- and reading only half of that, I didn't have all the same info... but ... still wow. Yes, I've listened to the MP3, but I look forward to hearing it performed.

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