A Song for Missing Aboriginal Women

"Nowhere"

City lights a-shining over there, big cars creeping, prowling for me
Snow white darkness over here, coyotes in the coulee howling for me
I’m lyin’ here
In the Middle of Nowhere
Crying
Crying
Crying
In the Middle of Nowhere.

A billion stars a-floating up above, far away, and cold as money-love
A hundred blows a-drummin'in my brain, I leave myself and fade away from pain.
I’m lyin’ here
In the Middle of Nowhere
Dying
Dying
Dying
In the Middle of Nowhere.

Woods and streams and country roads,
Fallen leaves, we decompose
A thousand bodies lying bare,
Hollow empty hidden there
Me and my sisters
Whying
Whying
Whying
In the Middle of Nowhere

Sisters all we hear the call
Run from hell, but then we fall
(Lying, crying, buying, highing, dying)
Strolling streets for tricks and treats
Soon we fall and stumble deep
(Lying, crying, buying, highing, dying)
Inhaling breath of senseless death
(Lying, crying, buying, highing, dying)
We find the Middle of Nowhere.

Lying
Where are you?
Crying
Where are you?
Dying
Where are you?
Whying
Where are you?
In the Middle of Nowhere
In the Middle of Nowhere
In the Middle of Nowhere
In the Middle of Nowhere.

**************************

Feel our spirits fly around
Singing out the haunting sound
Eagles wings a-soaring forth
East to West and South to North:
Raising up, to feel the pain
Lifting to a higher plane
The bright lights, and the dull men
In the big cars
That prowl the Middle of Nowhere.

Flying here (to the East)
From the Middle of Nowhere
Flying here (to the West)
From the Middle of Nowhere
Flying here (to the South)
From the Middle of Nowhere
Flying here (to the North)
From the Middle of Nowhere.

"...nowhere..."

http://www.panoramio.com/photo/9519644

My angular view of the Great Canadian Song Quest will be a departure for most of you. I'm not going to be a tourism promoter here. Not that that's bad - I love the love that's been shown for Canada's physical beauty. It's just that variety is good, right?

Just west of Regina, there is a little grid road we all call the "Pinkie Road." Back in the day, there was a lovely grain elevator there, named "Pinkie," and a rail siding, and nothing else, and we all thought of it as the smallest place on earth. If you looked at it facing west, you'd think you were in the middle of nowhere.

It turns out that "Pinkie" became "...the middle of nowhere..." which is what I want Buffy Saint Marie to write a song about. You see, they found Pamela George's




http://www.injusticebusters.com/2003/George_Pamela.htm

battered body in the ditch beside the Pinkie Road, back in 1996. Hundreds of other battered bodies like hers are still lost, "...in the middle of nowhere..." and she and her sisters deserve a song.

Prairie Oyster did much for battered women with "Black-eyed Susan," and I propose we use this contest to commission Buffy Sainte-Marie to do the same for our lost, forgotten aboriginal women.



Vigils are great, but way too silent. Let's make some noise!

- nowhereman