I wrote the prose for this song (intentionally misspelled) for my friend, and brilliant guitarist Jeff Brackett. We sat side by side endlessly in clubs answering requests - in rehearsals always pushing the envelope, constantly creating.
When we recorded these singles Joy and Mel Kay had recently joined and the Brookfield (now Brookfield North) legacy was embryonic and flourishing.
Photo - Neil Newton
Band Members:
Fredrick Brooks acoustic guitar/lead vocals
Jeff Brackett - electric guitar/vocal harmony
Joy Brooks - vocal harmony
Mel Kay - Bass
Eric Walker - vocal harmony
David Hawes - keyboards
Morey Patchen - drums
Bob Federer - mix engineer/mastering/Round Sound
<Click here to listen to Goen Home>
GOEN HOME
Here we are lovers of the midnight road
Freedom of the chance - goes untold
And I’m chasing down another sleepy dawn
Sunrise in replay - on and on
Goen Home
Now shoulder to shoulder - we pass the hours
Gypsy call boys on the wire - and down the road
Where children dream - tonight in small corners
You're set free - Goen Home
And through the shade of a long summer’s dream
I reach out my hand - do you see the plan?
It’s the crime of these modern times
Our Richard on the run - fit the part little
Goen Home…
© Fredrick Brooks 1982
This poem is from my collection XXVII - TWENTY SEVEN it celebrates my love for my Mom.
MAMA
My Mama
Old - serious
Her skin a withered shawl
Her fragile feet broken.
Alone she sits, shifting her gaze
in clouds of quietness.
It’s an obscenity this aging.
She’s become transparent.
Mama
My Mama
Who now lives in the deep recess of her past
Balancing her children in the palm of her life
Still dreaming of perfumed houses and
Time eternal