Okay, embarrassing confession time. There’s a song that I believe was originally by Bob Carlisle, but the only version I’ve heard was a cover by some contemporary country artist. It’s really a wedding song - Butterfly Kisses. It’s such a sickeningly sweet father-daughter song, and I first heard it when I was, basically, going through a period of reconciling with my dad after a lot of animosity. I’d been a Daddy’s Little Girl when I was little, and it just…snif.
That, and Colorblind by Counting Crows. That song’s just…sad.
One of the most saddening songs I’ve heard (it’s also just a good song) is Watching Over Me by Iced Earth. Quite a sad story. And it’s metal. Some of you may find that wierd, but the genre can have emotions.
When I was pregnant with the Winniebaby, I would bawl everytime I heard Billy Joels “Goodnight Saigon”. It still gets to me, but not to the point where I have to pull over to the side of the road anymore.
“Cats in the Cradle” gets to my husband so much. Especially now that he’s a father of a new baby boy and thinks about the non-existant relationship he had with his dad when he was young.
Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sounds of Silence” reduces me to tears every time.
But there was a Christmas song by Aaron Tippen (I believe) that got me a little teary. I can’t remember what it was, exactly, except I think it had to do with some homeless guy, and it was a truly bleak song.
Here is a link to the lyrics of the song I mentioned - It hits home for me so badly because my best friend lost her three year old daughter in a car accident on Christmas eve of 2002 and nearly lost her (at the time) 7 year old daughter in the same accident as well. The girl was in a coma for over two months (and here it is nearly 2 years later and she still isn’t back to normal function, but at least she is here). How any parent can read/hear these words and not cry is beyond me. In listening to it, the tone of voice really makes a difference - these words almost sound arrogant or selfish when reading, but she doesn’t sing it that way - she sings it like she knows she can’t win but just had to ask anyway.
For some inexplicable reason, I’m bawling every time I hear the Trans Siberian Orchestra’s Christmas version of Pachelbel’s Canon in D.
Something about children’s choirs can do me in.
It’s not sad! It’s pretty! sob
Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” makes me cry and then Eva Cassidy sings it and I’m bawling and then Sting sings “Fields of Gold” and I’m hysterical and then Eva sings it and, well, it’s not pretty, people. My face puffs up like the Michelin Man.
I think this should be a signal never to listen to Eva Cassidy, but I would rather cry than give her up.
This album by Libera, a boys’ choir from England, especially the title track, which is a reworking of Clair De Lune. I’ve almost given this disc away more than once because I could hear it in any context and cry like a little girl.
If you’re looking for an excuse to cry…a lot…buy this album.
At first I thought it was just me, then I played the title track for a couple coworkers and we ALL had the same reaction - one even ran out of the room.
His “Don’t Let Us Get Sick” does the same to me, and no less so even though he wrote it before he was diagnosed.
“Nightswimming”, by R.E.M. always does it, and when it’s followed immediately by "Find The River, I’m invariably bawling like a baby by the time the final notes fade away. The wistful nostalgia in the lines, “Nightswimming deserves a quiet night/I’m not sure all these people understand/It’s not like years ago,/The fear of getting caught,/of recklessness and water” and the lines, “The river to the ocean goes,/a fortune for the undertow” do it to me every time.
I seriously worry about playing “Luminosa” on the Christmas edition of my radio show, so I may have to bury it in a three-song set so I have a couple minutes to calm myself down. It’s not that I don’t like the song…I mean, I want people to hear it, but whether I’ll be able to keep my composure long enough to back-announce it is another crockpot o’ hot cider entirely.
At first, I worried more about the possibility of listeners having the same reaction, but would pulling off the road and parking the car and NOT stressing out our fellow travelers for a few minutes in the holiday season be a bad thing?
Normally I’m indifferent about children’s choirs, but this piece changed my mind. Amazingly, the first time I heard it was on an episode of Music From The Hearts Of Space on public radio, near the holidays a couple years ago…not the place I would normally expect to find something like that. It hit me like a brick.
Yes, I’m embarrassed to admit this one. It was played at my brother’s wedding (I was 8 months pregnant and full of mind-altering hormones), and I wept–We’ve Only Just Begun by The Carpenters. I’m not a huge Carpenters fan, but Karen C’s voice is so poignant and wistful and hopeful during this song. . . well, it still gets to me today.
Just last week, I waited in the car while my husband went into his favorite tobacco shop for some cigars. As I watched the cars stream past on route 4, the song popped into my head. I started singing it to myself to see if I could analyze why it makes me so misty. I had to stop because I didn’t want him to come out with his stinky turd sticks (just kidding–I don’t mind his cigars) and find me in a sobbing wet heap on the passenger seat.
p.s. My brother was divorced 4 years later.
p.p.s. If my daughter plays this song at her wedding, I am doomed.
p.p.p.s. I’m doing it again and I need to stop. So much of life ahead, we’ll find a place where there’s room to grow.… sob.
This song reaches deep down into my soul and stirs up old memories and feelings I’d thought were faded and gone, making them seem new and fresh and painful again. Beautiful lyrics, beautifully performed. I hate it, but I love it.
