Working Girl Blues (9 page)

The idea for the song may have originated in Baltimore, but it was actually written after I was living in Washington. Some of the ideas and thoughts I had there came from my feeling all this difference between the people that I met there and the people I had known back home. I just didn't seem to feel that camaraderie that I had with people back home. It seemed like the neighbors and everybody knew each other back there. You could live right next door to people in the city, and they didn't know you. You could live there and die, and nobody would know you'd passed on. There was quite a bit of loneliness
for a lot of people who had moved to the city, this feeling of isolation and not communing with people. In the early years I would take the train back home on visits. During my return trip at some point I would start to feel that uneasiness and disconnect the closer I got to the city. I would often wonder why I was going back. I seemed to feel I was on automatic pilot. Ultimately, I knew why—I had to support myself, and I could not do that back home. I also knew I needed and wanted the freedom to try my wings and be on my own for the first time in my life. One of the big disconnects in the city was the fact that a lot of city people didn't like hillbillies. And to tell the truth, there was not a lot of love lost on that one from us either!

I remember one lady who lived next door to us in one of those endless rows of row houses said she wished I'd go back to where I came from. It seemed I woke the dear soul up every morning around 6
A.M.
by singing at the top of my lungs while I was in the shower! Also one day as I was looking for an apartment in a working-class neighborhood, I saw a “for rent” sign and went to check it out for more information and got more than I bargained for. Under the For Rent portion was a sign printed in large bold letters, “No dogs or Hillbillies.” I knew I fit one of those descriptions. I also figured she was related to the lady that didn't fully appreciate my free early-morning concerts, so I hit the road and didn't look back until I was out of the entire neighborhood!

I believe the turning point in my adjustment to my new environment, and the experience that opened doors for me that had been previously closed between me and city folks, came when I began to meet new friends who were as passionate about the music as I was, and who also appreciated what I was doing in the music. It was a wonderful common ground on which to build and nurture new friendships. We were a lot more willing to keep the cultural differences in the background and deal with one another more on a musical level until we learned to begin trusting the fact that we could be good friends despite the differences in our upbringings. Many of those same friends are still some of my best friends all these many years later.

This song is one of my best songs, wherever I sing it, and it touches hearts in the way it was meant to—to honor my native home and to remind other people of theirs. It was written in the late '60s and early '70s. I recorded it twice, once in 1973 and again in 1980. I prefer the later recording, for I believe after living with the song for a while, I was freer to communicate and convey
some of the emotions I was feeling when I wrote the song. Even after all these years, when people ask where are you from, I always say West Virginia.

West Virginia, oh my home

West Virginia's where I belong

In the dead of the night in the still and the quiet

I slip away like a bird in flight

Back to those hills the place that I call home

It's been years now since I left there

And this city life's about got the best of me

I can't remember why I left so free

What I wanted to do, what I wanted to see

But I can sure remember where I come from

Well I've paid the price for leaving

And this life I have is not one I thought I'd find

Let me live love let me cry

And when I go just let me die

Among the friends who'll remember when I'm gone

West Virginia, oh my home

West Virginia's where I belong

In the dead of the night in the still and the quiet

I slip away like a bird in flight

Back to those hills the place that I call home

Home, home, home

Oh I can see it so clear in my mind

Home, home, home

I can almost smell the honeysuckle vine

In the dead of the night in the still and the quiet

I slip away like a bird in flight

Back to those hills the place that I call home

Tag:

Home

 

My Better Years

This is a true song in many ways. I wrote it in 1970 after my divorce. My former husband, Joe Cohen, came back one day after I had moved to Washington. He said that he had made a mistake, and that he wanted us to get back together. I still cared for him in some ways, but I could not forgive him for his original decision that we should have a trial separation. I felt like he had all the control over that decision and I had none. I also knew when I walked out that door I'd never return. So I very much needed a different solution.

From time to time one of our old friends would try to get me to talk to him and would try to get us back together. But I stood my ground, and I would say he made his decision. I'm in control of my life now. I felt like I couldn't trust that much again. I wanted to move on. Also, I was getting more and more into music and playing out more. I decided that's what made me the happiest, and it had always been there for me—my beacon in the storm, my comfort zone.

So as we sat there talking, he could see the change in me. I was a much stronger person than I was when we separated. I was in control and I could see that he felt it. We talked about music some and I said that I'd written a new song. He wanted to know the name of it and what it was about. I said it's “Don't Put Her Down, You Helped Put Her There” and proceeded to tell him about it. I mentioned that certain types of men like to put women down, and they like to control them. He reacted strongly to that remark and said he did not agree. He felt that women were more in control than men. He didn't seem to like my song very much. He asked about my relationships with men, and I bragged that I was dating again, that I was playing the field. He said he wished he could do that, that he had not had much luck in his relationships. I didn't let it show, but I did feel a little sorry for him, for us, for I knew it was over. Shortly after that visit I wrote “My Better Years.” He came to one of my concerts right after I wrote it and came back to say hello. He said, “By the way, when did you write that song “My Better Years?” I said, “Oh, some time ago.” I didn't tell that it was about us, but I believe he knew.

Chorus:

Well you're back on my door steps a-crying

Like I cried through all those lonely years

But I can't dry your tears

It's been too long since love was here

And I've already gave you, my better years

And so the pages of life kept right on turning

They never stopped for us to harvest the years

And old embers of love keep right on dying

For there was no one to dry my tears

Repeat Chorus

But I'll try not to blame you

I'll try not to shame you

All I can do now is wish you well

And if you should need a friend

I'll be there 'till the end

But don't ask me to love you again

And don't come back on my doorstep a-crying

Hoping for what's been dead so long

For the embers have long turned to ashes

There's nothing here but old memories and this song

Tag:

No don't come back on my doorstop a-crying

My friend there's nothing but old memories

And this song

 

Working Girl Blues

I was actually at work when I started to write this song. I was working at a retail store in Washington in 1975 and feeling hassled about how to do my work, ride the Greyhound bus over to my parents some weekends so I could see after them, and then ride back so I could go to my job playing music, get in late, get a few hours of sleep and have to get up and do my day job the next day. I had to work, work, work, even on my day off. I just got real frustrated this particular day, and wanted to be out of there. I wanted to be where the music was. I was taking inventory, so I just turned the sheet over and started writing “Working Girl Blues.” The women who worked with me really liked it. If they came to one of my shows, they would request it. It's gotten me a lot of mileage.

I've got the early Monday morning working blues

I put on my ragged wore out working shoes

The weekend was too short but I can't choose

When the Lord made the working girl, He made the blues

Chorus:

Well I'm tired of working my life away

Giving somebody else all of my pay

While they get rich on the profits that I lose

Leaving me here with the working girl blues

Yodel:
I le yodel lay dee working girl blues

I can't even afford a new pair of shoes

While they can live in any old penthouse they choose

And all that I've got is the working girl blues

My boss said a raise is due most any day

But I wonder will my hair be all turned gray

Before he turns that dollar loose and I get my dues

And lose a little bit of these working girl blues

Well I know there's a lot of working girls like me

Who are overworked and underpaid you see

And we all know our pocket's been picked clean

So the rich can have that all American dream!

And we're tired of working our lives away

Giving somebody else all of our pay

While they get rich on the profits that we lose

Leaving us here with the working girl blues

Yodel

 

Scars from an Old Love

I wrote this song in 1975 and 1976 after I finished “My Better Years,” which was about the breakup of my marriage. It clearly shows how I was still affected by that breakup. Even though I'd been dating for a while, I was not allowing myself to get too seriously involved. I was not ready to trust that much again. But fate generally has a lot to do in matters of the heart. I had recently met someone of interest and we became fast friends, and I knew that this new relationship had the potential of becoming the first really serious relationship since my marriage. I was more open to this relationship than the previous ones from two or three years back, but the trust issue was still in the back of my mind, and to relieve my anxieties I began writing songs about it. I started writing this one on a Greyhound bus on my way to Pennsylvania for a rehearsal, around 1975 or 1976.

I've held him as close as I dare to go

All his sweet has started to show

I know that I need him, but trusting is rough