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Harry Chapin - Stranger with the Melodies

 
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It was my first night in that rooming house
In the last room down the hall
I heard a hoarse voice and an old guitar
Coming through the paper thin walls
A crazy nonsense nursery rhyme
That did not mean a thing
But for the first of what was to be a thousand times
This is what I hear him sing. .
Hold that D chord on the old guitar
'Til I found the G
Drop it down to old E minor
'Til the A chord rolls back home around to D

I had to lay there listening
It seemed he was in the room
This stranger with his melody
Singing there in the gloom
And he repeated it over and over again
Such a soft and sinkin' sound
It was kind of like a music box that was slowly winding down
You see, he sang it, he hummed it
Whistled it, and he strummed it
He laughed it and he cried it
He did everything but hide it
And he sang . .
Hold that D chord on the old guitar
'Til I found the G
Drop it down to old E minor
'Til the A chord rolls back home around for me

So I lay there in that lumpy bed
Countin' choruses instead of sheep
'Til I banged on the wall and out I called
"Hey bub I need some sleep."
The sudden void of silence, then I heard that hoarse voice say
"It weren't so long ago boy, they paid me to play "

I said, "It's kind of late for music sir
Two hours til it's daylight"
He answered, "I need my music most
In these dark hours of the night
You see I've tried gettin' high on something son
But it only brings me down
Staying dry don't work out better boy
'Cause my eyes get wet and I drown
Won't you please let me continue
And I'll be in your debt
You see I'm not singing to remember son
I'm just singing to forget"

And he sang ..
Hold that D chord on the old guitar
'Til I found the G
Drop it down to old E minor
'Til the A chord rolls back home around for me

That's when I said
"If I'm supposed to listen to you sir
Just one quick question then
Why in the hell do you sing one song
Over and over again?"

And this is what he said. .

He said, "I gave her the music son
She gave me the words
Together we'd write the kind of songs
The angels must have heard
Of course we'd fight like cats and dogs
But life ain't no rosebud dream
Still whatever we'd do everybody knew
We truly were a team
I can't remember now if I done her wrong
Or if she done wrong to me
But all I know that when I let her go
That it did not set me free
That's when I said, "You sound like what's-his-name"
He said, "That's who I am
But you can't wrap a name around you boy
'Cause it really don't mean a damn
You see, a song don't have much meaning
When it dan't have nothing to say
What she could do was magic son
All I could do was play"

He started singing again
That's when I drifted off
Maybe I dreamed what I heard
'Bout this stranger with his melody
Who'd gone and lost the words
Hold that D chord on the old guitar
'Til I found the G
Drop it down to old E minor
'Til the A chord rolls back home around to D

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Harry Chapin

Harry Chapin

The meaning of the song

Biography

Harry Chapin (December 7, 1942 – July 16, 1981) was an American singer-songwriter whose legacy is built not only on his unique style of folk music, but also on the vast humanitarian influence he had.

Chapin was born in New York, New York. He later joined the Brooklyn Boys Choir where he met John Wallace (“Big” John Wallace on stage), who would be his collaborator throughout his entire career. As a teenager, Chapin played the trumpet before moving to the guitar. He often played music with his brothers, Tom and Steve, who like Wallace would become his future bandmates.

After high school, Chapin did a brief stint at the United States Air Force Academy – later alluded to in his hit song, “Taxi” – and tried to get into the documentary film scene, directing Legendary Champions in 1968. However, in 1971, he turned his focus fully to music.

His first solo album was Heads and Tales, which featured “Taxi.” Afterwards, both Elektra Records and Columbia wanted to sign Harry to their label, with Elektra winning out by giving Chapin the largest new artist recording contract in history.

Chapin released Sniper and Other Love Songs in 1972 and Short Stories in 1973 to less acclaim than his first album. It was his fourth album, however, Verities and Balderdash, that spawned his biggest song and only #1 hit, the wistfully ironic “Cat’s in the Cradle.”

As shown in his youth, he continued to explore other show business avenues. He wrote a musical called The Night That Made America Famous, based on the song of the same name, and the music for the show Cotton Patch Gospel. He served on the board of many Long Island arts associations, including the Long Island Philharmonic. He also continued to release albums, although none received the fame that “Cats in the Cradle” did.

In 1975, Chapin and radio host Bill Ayres founded World Hunger Year (now WhyHunger). Many of his concerts from that point on were benefit concerts, supporting WHY as well as other causes. He often did over 200 concerts a year. He also fought for hunger outside of his musical career, lobbying in Washington D.C. and serving on various committees.

In 1981, Chapin was driving on the Long Island Expressway when he put his hazard lights on for unknown reasons. He then swerved across two lanes before ending up in front of a tractor-trailer. The truck hit the back of his car, causing the fuel tank to explode. However, once at the hospital, his cause of death was determined to be cardiac arrest; whether it occurred before or after the crash is unknown.

Chapin’s legacy as a humanitarian grew after his death. Ken Kragen, Chapin’s manager in the years after the creation of WHY, organized USA for Africa and Hands Across America. The Harry Chapin Award is given to those who fight against hunger, and the Harry Chapin Memorial Run/Walk Against Hunger is held in Croton-on-Hudson annually. His widow, Sandy, runs the Harry Chapin Foundation, which raises money for charity and community programs around the United States.

On December 7, 1987, Chapin was honored posthumously for his philanthropic work with the Congressional Gold Medal, the highest honor Congress gives.

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