Leon Rosselson 1988
“I was a frequent guest at the Vancouver Folk Festival during the 1980s. It was unusual in not having any alcohol or corporate funding and in giving everyone, big and small, equal billing. In 1987, Frankie [Armstrong], Roy [Bailey] and myself were honoured to be given the final spot on the Sunday night main stage concert. I wrote this song for us to sing to close the festival. Anyone who knows Hungarian folk will recognise the tune of the chorus. I’d been carrying it around in my head for thirty years before I found a use for it.”
Melrose Quartet: https://melrosequartet.bandcamp.com/track/the-voice-that-lives-inside-you
https://melrosequartet.bandcamp.com/track/the-voice-that-lives-inside-you
When you’re new in the world, you’ve a dream that is wild, And they tame you and mold you, ’til one day, behold, You’re obedient soldiers, commuters, consumers, Reality rules, and there’s no room for dreamers, They teach you your place in the obstacle race With a prize that you chase, always just out of reach, And you’re urged on by megaphone voices that offer you Choices that are not your own. Chorus Only listen for the voice that lives inside you; Like a songbird in a cage, it waits in silence. Find the key to set it free and soaring skyward; Now the sky is filled with voices, hear them sing beside you. When the powers that be in their wisdom decree That you’re no longer needed to feed the machine, The wheel turns, you’re dismissed; if you dare to resist, There are walls, there are laws to confuse you and bruise you. They’ll label you scroungers and wasters and sponges; They’ll call you subversives, reds, traitors, and worse. If you don’t fit the norm, if your ways don’t conform To the rules, then you’re out of the game. The way they’ve arranged things, you think you can’t change things; You’re one, you’re just you; but whatever they do, Don’t forget to remember, you’re a name not a number, And no one can think for you, dream for you, speak for you. Don’t let them bind you down, don’t let them grind you down, Don’t let them mold you, ’til one day, behold, You’re obedient tools, you’re commuters, consumers, And reality rules out your dreams.