Story Behind The Song
I knew some people would be miffed at putting such a song on the cd. I personally like to listen to other peoples albums, and be made to think a bit. This New Orleans funeral dirge, may or may not do that, but I wanted to show a slightly different side. It's more a song for us(me), and let the cow chips fall where they may.
My wife's family lives in Ferryville, a small town south of LaCrosse,Wi on the Mississippi. When we visit them, we always go for a walk that inevitably takes us past this tiny town's nearby cemetery. I was always drawn to one headstone, and the Yew Tree that guarded it. I still don't know the truth to this person's demise, but I decided what it was.
A father died while saving his very young daughter from getting hit by a car. Not wanting the daughter to live her life with the guilt, he told the mother to keep the circumstances a secret. The daughter learned the truth, lived with the guilt, til she could no longer. The father died in vain, because of the daughter's suicide. I know it's not a great match to the rest of the songs, but in some ways, it is. My wife co-wrote it with a little help from Johnny(bass), I didn't want to leave it on the cutting floor. I will take complete responsibility for it's presence on the album, but make no apologies. :-)
It was mixed by Victor DeLorenzo, the drummer of the Violent Femmes. He was very excited to put his stamp on it. I had only met him hours previous, he happened by the Milwaukee studio where we were mixing the last 4 songs, this one included. His demeanor told me to trust him. The strings were meant to be warm and lush, he said they should sound like Polish Public Radio. He was onto something, and I let him go. I'm proud of this song and the whole album.
Song Description
I knew some people would be miffed at putting such a song on the cd. I personally like to listen to other peoples albums, and be made to think a bit. This New Orleans funeral dirge, may or may not do that, but I wanted to show a slightly different side. It's more a song for us(me), and let the cow chips fall where they may.
My wife's family lives in Ferryville, a small town south of LaCrosse,Wi on the Mississippi. When we visit them, we always go for a walk that inevitably takes us past this tiny town's nearby cemetery. I was always drawn to one headstone, and the Yew Tree that guarded it. I still don't know the truth to this person's demise, but I decided what it was.
A father died while saving his very young daughter from getting hit by a car. Not wanting the daughter to live her life with the guilt, he told the mother to keep the circumstances a secret. The daughter learned the truth, lived with the guilt, til she could no longer. The father died in vain, because of the daughter's suicide. I know it's not a great match to the rest of the songs, but in some ways, it is. My wife co-wrote it with a little help from Johnny(bass), I didn't want to leave it on the cutting floor. I will take complete responsibility for it's presence on the album, but make no apologies. :-)
It was mixed by Victor DeLorenzo, the drummer of the Violent Femmes. He was very excited to put his stamp on it. I had only met him hours previous, he happened by the Milwaukee studio where we were mixing the last 4 songs, this one included. His demeanor told me to trust him. The strings were meant to be warm and lush, he said they should sound like Polish Public Radio. He was onto something, and I let him go. I'm proud of this song and the whole album.
| Song Length |
4:17 |
Genre |
Unique - Avant garde, Folk - Alternative |
| Tempo |
Very Slow (Under 70) |
Lead Vocal |
Male Vocal |
| Mood |
Heartbreaking, Depressing |
Subject |
Sadness, General |
| Similar Artists |
Tom Waits, Marc Cohn |
Language |
English |
| Era |
1960 - 1969 |
| |
Lyrics
The Tree marks the grave of the hero that died in vain, noone but the widow can recall
40 summers past, The Tree has outlast, what the papers called, a tragic day.
Noone can explain, if the daughter if the daughter shared in the pain, as mother tended the Yew Tree, every spring?
The girl was too young, to remember what she had done, running into the street, that sunny day.
The car rounded fast, the hero pushed her past, he was heard to cry, "mother, never tell"
She knew it would come to this day, mother told not to say, why make daughter share her sorrow, needlessly?
The truth mother could not say, daughter learned of anyway, and bore the cross of daddy, every day.
40 years to the day, they dig another grave, daughter never heard what she had done,
Mother stands alone, lost everything she knows,daughter took her life under the tree.
The Tree marks the grave, of the hero that died in vain, only the widow, can recall.