Throughout childhood I sang in choirs both at school and at church. As a teenager I began composing my own material, and singing solos and duets in my friends’ churches though rarely in my own. I knew from a very young age that I needed to sing, that some part of me wasn’t complete without song flowing through me. However, my experiences within the church and the obstacles that were placed before my exploration of music as an offering confused and frustrated me, bringing my projected career as a Christian singer to an abrupt halt.

Leaving the church meant leaving behind a huge and deeply-ingrained part of myself as well. I had to start over from scratch, without family or community support, and as the full repercussions of my decision sank in I watched the rift between myself and everyone I’d grown up with, everything I thought I knew about the world, widen and deepen into a chasm. I watched bridges snap and fall into the gorge and I was terrified.

Out of that darkness came Rebirth, my first CD, recorded in 1998 by my friend, Simon Lebrun, and with the permission of the long-suffering John McGuirk, in our evening hours after working as day-camp counsellors at our alma mater, Hillfield Strathallan College. We put it together in two weeks. The subject matter was deeply painful and transformative, raw and sometimes angrily expressed, but it needed to be sung so I could move forward and begin to leave the emotion behind.

The quality of these performances and the recording itself is not what I’d call professional. But for using a 4-track and mic-ing my voice and an upright piano for the first time, I think we did pretty well. However, some tracks are better than others, and those you’re welcome to hear. Some have lame effects and bad cadences, and we didn’t have the luxury of reverb, but we all start somewhere. All the lyrics follow.

My first performance of this song was in a cabin in Northern Ontario, for a bunch of friends who had never heard my music, accompanied by an old pump organ I’d never played before. None of us really knew what to expect, but something sacred was born into that night, a connection forged that has lasted more than a decade.

And I know that inside you, you can hear my voice
And I know that inside you, you hear me
And I know that inside you, you can hear my voice
And I know that inside you, you hear

One lifetime I woke and I found I was tin
So easily swayed I buckled in the wind
And this is the way that I lived my life
I gave to the wind and it broke me

And my eyes have been blinded, my uniform’s thin
And my hair has been dyed neutral grey
And I’m marching in single file, silent and grim
And the nightingale flies on her way

One lifetime I woke and I found I was blood
I felt every touch, I could be passionate
And this is the way that I lived my life
I turned to the wind and it fed me

And my blood has been dripping since I said I’d stay
And I’m slashing my wrists on my knees
And I lift up my head, screaming, Take me away!
To the nightingale sailing her breeze

And I know that inside you, you can hear my voice
And I know that inside you, you hear me
And I know that inside you, you can hear my voice
And I know that inside you, you hear

One lifetime I woke and I found I was stone
I stuck to my guns, the earth was my throne
And this is the way that I lived my life
I threw out the wind and it healed me

And my eyes have been opened, the paint is all dry
And my chains will melt off if I run
And I finally see that I know how to fly
And the nightingale shows me the sun

And I know that inside you, you can hear my voice
And I know that inside you, you hear me
And I know that inside you, you can hear my voice
And I know that inside you, you hear

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I could not understand how a tragedy for one group of people could be interpreted by another as a personal sign that their god was angry. I wanted to be an island whose actions and reactions to her world affected only herself. I wanted to believe that no one had the right to celebrate or mourn the events s/he experienced in life by apportioning their cause to me. I was reacting against the belief that disaster was purposeful and planned and observed objectively.

Chorus:
The world is spinning out of control
And it’s all because of me
What a wonderful night to be free

Going on a picnic, not a cloud in the sky
Running through the green grass, splashing
Where did that puddle come from?
Where did the sun go?
Must have been that spider that I killed before we came

When did I get to be powerful?
Chorus

What kind of power lets a man damn another with his tongue?
The painted lady, singing
Where did my husband go to?
Where did the sun go?
I wonder why his laughter is still ringing in my ears

When did I get to be powerful?
Chorus

I lead a good life and I pray for my brother’s health now
What if I slip down?
Will you rape that girl just to punish me?
I’d rather live in the darkness
If I have to pay for the light
With my own blood as the sacrifice

What a wonderful night to be free
What a wonderful night to be me

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I once knew a woman who shared the secrets of her childhood with me, about putting her alcoholic mother to bed each night and having to wait up until she fell asleep to put out her cigarette so she wouldn’t burn down the house. I thought about how those experiences had shaped the woman I knew then, and forced her to grow unnaturally hard and fast. And I thought about her mother, wherever she was, waking up one day to an empty house and an empty life, realization dawning on her like finally noticing the beauty of a sunrise on your very last morning. I wondered how she would feel and what she might say to her daughter now long gone. And I wondered if my friend would care to listen.

There is something you lost
Though I can’t see the meaning
There was someone you trusted
And someone betrayed you
There was someone you talked to
In the dark, in your corner
Through the window you let yourself fly

And you flew, you flew, you flew away

There was distance between us
And I thought I could help you
But my questions just seemed
To drive you away
And you found a new home there
In the dark, where you whisper
Like a child beaten down by her god

So you flew, you flew, you flew away
And how do I get your soul back?
Back from the place where you’ve gone

Is it my fault that you are this way?
Is it my fault that you ran away?
Is it my fault that you learned to hate?
Yes, it’s my fault that you’ll never stay

I could be there to talk to
In the dark, in your secrets
I could win back your heart if you try

But you flew, you flew, you flew away
And I’ll never get your soul back
Back from the place where you’ve gone

‘Cause your soul, it flew, it flew away
And all I have left here is a grave

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I was angry. I felt trapped in a world I knew I was no longer a part of and could see no way to escape. I only saw the judgment, the restriction, the arbitrary nature of divine choice, the desire to be praised at all costs, and it overwhelmed me. I did not see my Creator; I saw theirs, and I screamed out my loneliness to the sky.

Under your thumb we sit here
Silently and patiently and humbly sitting still
Deaf, mute and dumb we squirm here
Patience child, you know I’ve got
So many mouths to feed
To let somebody bleed
So many men to drown
To burn this city down

Chorus:
Omnipotent power-trip
Women and children first
Who needs the devil anyway?
He’s quenching his hollow thirst

All in a line we stand here
We can suck the marrow from the bones that you discard
Toss us a bone we beg here
Sorry child
I’ve checked my book and you’re not on the list
You’re Jewish and your fathers got me pissed
But listen, I don’t wanna have to shout
My arbitrary will has left you out

Chorus

Please don’t waste my precious time

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I fell in love with two boys, in very different ways, and at the same time. One was healthy, and surrounded me with love. One was sick, and surrounded me with hate. Can you guess which one I chose? I think I figured the healthy lad would be fine without me, but the sick one needed to be healed. He wasn’t the only one.

What does it mean to be beautiful?
What does it mean when you tell me I’m beautiful?
Don’t take this straight-jacket off of me
I’m wearing it now to protect you from me

‘Cause maybe if I’m in this padded room
I won’t cause you pain
And maybe if I stay inside this room
I won’t be to blame

Don’t try to hold or console me
Don’t try to build yourself up as my hero
Showing me his faults won’t make me see your shine
What do you mean that the shine is all mine?

Though maybe if I’m on this pedestal
I won’t see your pain
Oh and maybe if I can forget it all
I won’t be to blame

Chorus:
But how do I forget your face every morning?
And how do I forget the way that you loved me?

Ripples and waves lap my feet
And I’m flying away
To a place that is cold
Maybe the numbness
Will seep through my body
And if I close my eyes I’ll be old

I would like to fly away

That’s what you get for your honesty
That’s what you get when you show them your honesty
Too many tears have been shed tonight
Break free from the guilt and step into the light

What good can I do in my padded room?
Time to feel the pain
And closing my eyes in my padded room
I’m the one to blame

Chorus

Turning to face all the tears
I’ve been running away
I’ve been flying away
Maybe the heartache will seep from my body
And if I close my eyes I’ll be yours

I would like to fly with you

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Dedicated to all of those who have ever awakened to the knowledge that they are passengers in their own lives, and dared to do something about it.

I am sitting in the backseat of my car
I know the chauffeur’s name
But I can’t see the car’s direction
Hey mister, give me the wheel
“Hush darlin’, don’t cry”
He said, “Hush darlin’, don’t cry”

Somehow I’m trapped in my own car
Can’t see the chauffeur’s face
He won’t let me sit beside him
But mister, this is my car
“Hush darlin’, don’t cry”
He just said, “Hush little darlin’, don’t cry”

Chorus:
I just want to be the driver
I don’t want to follow your lead
I don’t want your constant guidance
Hey, I don’t want your world
I said hey, I can’t be your girl

We switch places and I’m at the wheel
I know this chauffeur well
He is one bad backseat driver
Hey mister, I’m going insane
“Hush darlin’, don’t cry”
He just said, “Hush darlin’, don’t cry”

Chorus

‘Cause I just want to sit in silence
I don’t want you in my backseat
I am dropping you off on the corner
Hey, have fun in your world
I said hey, I am my own girl

Hey mister, how does it feel?
Hush darlin’, don’t cry
I said, hush darlin’, don’t cry

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One of my favourites from the early days, composed on my tiny little pawn-shop keyboard that got me through the first couple of years of university. This is one of those songs that wrote itself through me, and I’m not really sure where it came from, but it wanted to be heard.

Chorus:
The rolling of the sea will be
Forever haunting me

Covered with the moon
I went walking along the shore
The sand beneath my feet
My ragged dress is torn
I could have sworn
That it was new this morning
Or was it last week?
Where’s the time gone?

Chorus

Turning from the moon
I wandered into the waves
And as I touched eternity
The ocean bled my name
And I could blame it
For reminding me
That I am too weak
Where’s the time gone?

Chorus

Floating with the sea
I went drifting far from shore
The salt was in my eyes
I went out with the tide
I couldn’t hide
That I was dying
The sand had run through
And there’s the time gone

Chorus

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A desperate musical attempt to gain some solid ground in quicksand, though it only served to touch everyone else who heard it. His reaction was almost angry, that he had been singled out in public by the nakedness of my heart, and thereby edged once again out of the spotlight. He jealously guarded his apathy and hated when I made things too real for him.

Shadows hide you
Bleeding, silent
Weighed down, love drowned
Raging, empty

Chorus:
My tears
Stone ears
Your fears
Hands tied
Who cried?

Sundown, night falls
Blackness, thunder
Waves crash, wind roars
Heart pounds, sinking

Chorus

Dreaming, reaching
Someone smiling
Blind eyes open
Kind words spoken

Come home, I’m here
No more searching
Safely guarded
Love me, set free

My tears
Fog clears
Your fears
Hearts tied
Eyes dried

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This is my ‘Silent All These Years’. It was the first song I wrote coming out of Christianity, and it gave me hope that there would still be life on the other side of that flaming sword. This was my rebirth as a musical creature, and I still hold it close to my heart as a symbol of the power of utter transformation.

Caught in a hole and there’s no way out
No windows, and I reach for the staircase
Two at a time, running blind into walls
My vision is clouded by my mask, and I ask

Chorus:
Is this future before me mine?
All I can see is my past running over me
Help me to break from its grasping at straws
Empty hands reaching out for my throat
Choking smoke lifting me from my body
I am

Lost on a pier, let the waves crash on
I’m drowning as red lights turn to slumber
Why am I here?
Will the elements come with me?
When water turns to stone and the wind burns

The future before me
Is all I can see just my past
Running over me?

Chorus

Who was I supposed to be?
Who will I become?
Who am I now?
I am

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My first instrumental recording. I didn’t record another until 2009, during the 50/90 challenge. What a lovely little hint of what was to come a mere 10 years later.

Instrumental

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