Larry Bach

Lyrics

She lived a better sermon than was ever heard or preached.
She felt a higher calling than the highest notes she’d ever reach.
She sang her truest song far away from radio.
I remember crying at the death of Phoebe Snow.

Born in 1952. The family name was “Laub.”
She sang the blues, and jazz, and folk, and made her parents proud.
And the trains rolled through New Jersey right past her childhood home.
And the Lackawanna box cars bore the name of Phoebe Snow. They said...

"Phoebe Snow had to go upon a trip to Buffalo.
Her gown stayed white from morn’ ‘til night upon the Road of Anthracite."

With her 000-18 in hand, four octaves in those pipes.
She'd ride into The Village and hit the open mics.
Fame beset her suddenly, like few had ever known.
Her debut record went to Gold. They called it, "Phoebe Snow."

When Valerie was born, they said she wouldn't live for long.
They said she’d never smile, or laugh. They said it. They were wrong.
They told her, "Put that girl away," but Phoebe, she said "No."
And a mother's love became the greatest work of Phoebe Snow.

She loved her as a baby. She loved her as she grew.
She said, "My girl's the reason that I live my life as well as I do."
Others said it was a shame, the way it took its toll.
But they just couldn't understand success like Phoebe Snow.

Phoebe Snow had to go upon a trip. To where? I don't know.
Shining bright from morn till night. Somewhere, everything’s alright.

She lived a better sermon than was ever heard or preached.
She felt a higher calling than the highest notes she’d ever reach.
She sang her truest song far away from radio.
And I remember crying at the death of Phoebe Snow.
Phoebe’s with her Valerie. They’ll never be alone.
I cannot help but wonder at the life of Phoebe Snow.