Immigrant’s Son is the last cut from our first album Medicine Lands. It deals directly with loss of my dear friend Enzo. I reminisce throughout the song; the here and now, the memories, the power of his faith, the sparkle in his eyes and how he now, slowly drifts into history.
Joy Brooks - Vocal/Harmonies
Fredrick Brooks - Acoustic guitar/Harmonies
Jeff Brackett - Acoustic guitar
Chants - Brookfield (North) - Caroline Brooks, Katherine Brooks, Joy Gearing, Victor Fuke, Jay Olson, and Emerson Brooks
Produced by Paul LaChappelle, Fredrick Brooks
Recorded and mastered at Quest Recording
Lyrics
IMMIGRANT’S SON
I need a room with a view
A place where I can watch over
Like a bird on a wire
We were brothers in truth
Now our road has parted
How time goes by.
Chorus
And I remember you
Your life on the run
The sparkle in your eyes
The weight of your love
If I could speak with you now
The words would fall so clear
But it’s a far - far cry…
An Immigrant’s Son
Who parts now in the name of the Father
To his heaven afar
In the dark stream
Like a vanishing leaf
Slowly he drifts on by.
Chorus - Chants
© Fredrick Brooks 1997 - For Enzo Detta-Coli
