A Novel in a Song

Nights of Cinnamon

Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
We were fearless then and strong
Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
How could anything go wrong?
We’d forgotten how much hunger hurts,
but we’d remember all too soon
Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
Dreadful clouds obscured the moon

Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
Our sails had seemed so full of wind
Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
Forgive us Father, though we’ve sinned
Ours had been the sin of arrogance
Life brought us quickly back to earth
Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
Tiny Brendan dead at birth

Everybody’s hungry now/
The earth won’t yield
The wound’s not healed
Our fate seems sealed
Heaven help us if another crop should fail
They’ll hear me wail in Cork

Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
Our girl was often heard to cough
Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
In three short months we saw her off
Her loss was more than Rose could bear
She saw our Maggie everywhere
Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
God seemed not to hear out prayer

Rose I’ll bet is somewhere eating caviar
or riding in the landlord’s car
I dig now for sustenance with ravaged hands
while Rosie’s fanned by slaves

Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
Shattered now a heart once pure
Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
How much can a man endure
My children gone and now my Rosie too
I’ve no strength with which to fight
Days of sulfur, nights of cinnamon
Stop the train I must alight

©2010 John Mendelsohn. All rights reserved.