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The Day the Birds Stopped Singing

from Jacquerie by Edward Morneau

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about

I think most artists in America and the world wanted to understand 9/11 and respond to it according to the art they practiced. The act of creation is often the act of repair, and though the intention is not always to heal with reflection, infect with unbearable truths, or inoculate against chaos, art in the concrete or abstract acts as the architecture of new perceptions, challenging us to see an event with new eyes. Yet, the constancy of our media and the perpetual reflection that is the aggregate visual art of the last century seem poised to exploit tragedy at every turn and shroud meaning in clichés and absurdities. An event like 9/11 is a soul check and either one has something to say, has difficulty saying it, or chooses to not say anything.

The loss of life from 9/11 has an excruciating poignancy and stunning immediacy to it; however, like any loss of life, it impacts those left behind in perpetual and profound ways. The finality of death is measured as an end, but remembrance of those lost conjures up cherished narratives and lasting regrets. It takes a lifetime to really know a person, as that person moves about as an unfinished book— sadly , wonderfully , or mysteriously never to be finished except to end before the work of life is done.

“The Day the Birds Stopped Singing” is the only way I can understand this kind of loss. It is a song about a congregation of those left behind in a church of remembrance, where the echo of friendship, the petty irritations of sibling rivalry, the perfect pitch of a father’s pride, and the fertile ground of a mother’s deep suspicions about the cruel world that will bury her children are part of the larger absolutions required of remembrance.

lyrics

The Day the Birds Stopped Singing

I knew him well—he was a friend of mine,
Our lives were all laughter and song

And dreams of a better world,
And our hearts would leap
When we danced with the local girls.

Had I known on the day the birds stopped singing,
We should have skipped work and gone for a ride
But how was I to know he’d be gone before his time?

I knew him well—he was a brother of mine
Though there were times when
I wished he’d get lost or just disappear,
There were times when
I cried so hard when he was not there.
But I knew on the day
the birds stopped singing,
I’d remember every crack in his stupid smile
How was I to know he’d be gone before his time?

I knew him well—he was a son of mine,

In the hot days of summer
He’d strike out the order as if they were blind,
It was I he’d tell of the fears that were on his mind.
Had I known on the day the birds stopped singing

I’d have warned him something else was in the sky
But how was I to know he’d be gone before his time?

I knew him well—he was my oldest child,
I used to worry so hard
When he didn’t come home on time
And I’d dread the sad day
When we had to say goodbye
I believed on the day the birds stopped singing
Such a kind man would surely find his way 

But I knew such a world could take him...
I knew such a world would take him before his day.
I knew him well...

credits

from Jacquerie, track released January 1, 2010

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Edward Morneau Salem, Massachusetts

Edward Morneau has been a musician and songwriter most of his life. His focus on multiple genres and interest on sound collage experimentation makes his music hard to classify. His muses range from Beatles, Brian Wilson, Randy Newman, XTC, Kinks, Iris DeMent to Mahler, Shostakovich, Penderecki & Zappa. His background as an English & Film teacher gives humor and striking imagery to his songs. ... more

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