My first recording, “Calling My Wisdom Home,” includes several of my earliest songs and covers of my favorite songs by other contemporary singer-songwriters.

(Scroll down for lyrics and recordings of my songs; titles and composers of covers are listed at the bottom)

Finding Myself

I’m finding myself in the middle of my life
A powerful woman, and not just a wife
Searching in loneliness, searching in caring
Searching in longing, and searching in sharing
Love

I’m finding my voice in the middle of the noise
Singing my sorrows and singing my joys
Singing my fearfulness, singing my growing
Seeking my wisdom and speaking my knowing
Love

I’m finding my rhythm within our embrace
Finding my passion, and finding my grace
Finding it laughing and finding it weeping
Finding it waking, and finding it sleeping
Love

I’m finding my center in spite of my fear
I summon my courage, and hold myself dear
I find it challenging, find it revealing
Find that it frees me from years of concealing
Love

I reach out to you when I know my own soul
Reach out to you from what’s good and what’s whole
Reach out in confidence, reach in desire
Reach from the strength of my internal fire
Higher and higher
Love

© 1998 Emily Melcher

Hang On to Your Lover

Misery on one side, fun on the other
If you balance it right, you’ll hang on to your lover.

Lies on one side, and booze on the other
If you tip the scale right, you’ll hang on to your lover.

Threats on one side, and pleas on the other
If you can just keep it up, you’ll hang on to your lover.

We watched our mother try and try, watched our mother cry and cry
And die a little more inside with every lie.
Sometimes I wonder what we could have learned
If we’d ever heard our mother say good-bye.

Misery on one side, fun on the other
If you balance it right, you’ll hang on to your lover.

Lies on one side, and booze on the other
If you tip the scale right, you’ll hang on to your lover.

Threats on one side, and pleas on the other
If you can just keep it up, you’ll hang on to your lover.

Sometimes I wonder what we could have learned
If we’d ever heard our mother say good-bye.

© 1995 Emily Melcher

To My Therapist
(because knowing about transference doesn’t save me from it)

Yes, I know, it’s just transference,
when you cancelled, I was mad.
Not just mad, though, livid really,
suddenly you were my dad!

I was little, I was lonely,
cause you were the one and only
chance I had of being someone
in somebody’s eyes

Every promise that he’d broken,
every loving word unspoken,
all the business left undone –
you were him, in disguise!

(If I rage someone might see me.
If I scream someone might hear me.
If I cry, there might be
comfort from someone who
doesn’t fear me.
I want you near me…)

Yes, I know, it’s just transference,
but I find myself excited
at the thought of seeing you I
feel both horny and delighted!

When my feelings need an outlet
I don’t seem to have a doubt that
you’re the man who’s all the man
that my beloved man is not!

And so, I find myself transferring
every longing that is stirring.
Whew! I need a stronger fan,
it’s really getting hot in here.
(I want you near…)

(If I rage someone might see me.
If I scream someone might hear me.
If I cry, there might be
comfort from someone who
doesn’t fear me.
I want you near me…)

Yes, I know, it’s just transference,
it’s a natural occurrence.
I’m supposed to work my conflict
with them out with you

That’s why in this situation
I may find my ovulation
realigned and somehow tricked
cause that will help me do

All the work I’ve come to do here,
all the grieving, and the growing,
all the painful birthing, showing
all I hope and fear.
(I want you near…)

Yes, I know it’s your profession
to receive my deep confession,
sixty bucks an hour for
the chance to bare my soul

But I pay it willing, gladly,
I need affirmation badly,
sixty bucks an hour for
the chance to become whole.

(If I rage someone might see me.
If I scream someone might hear me.
If I cry, there might be
comfort from someone who
doesn’t fear me.
I want you near me…)

What? You say it’s just transference?
And you offer your assurance
that this little feeling welling inside
isn’t love.

Could I have a new appointment?
Help me face the disappointment
that I’m feeling since you say this
feeling isn’t love…

Wait! Of course, there’s still my mother!
Surely I can find some other
hidden feelings long repressed
to transfer onto you…

Take your damned advice and shove it!
Can’t you see I’m way above it?
Now I’ve really lost my cool…
Look what you made me do!

© Emily Melcher 1999

The Right Hand of God

There was a minister in our parish –
when little boys sought his care,
he’d perform the laying on of hands
everywhere

There was a therapist in our clinic –
when my sister sought his care,
he healed her wounds by reaching deep inside
everywhere

“Suffer the children to come unto me”
(Heal all that’s broken with therapy)

Parents and grandparents in our families
taught us to be polite
And so we never learned that saying “NO!”
was alright

“Say please and thank-you and listen when spoken to”
“Honor thy mother and father”
“Seek ye the Lord,” (or a therapist, or two…)

There was a minister in our parish –
when little boys sought his care,
he’d perform the laying on of hands

©1995 Emily Melcher

Lost Your Mind Somewhere Along the Way

When you came back from Mexico, I didn’t know you
Sittin’ in the psych ward on the floor
I went and sat down by your side,
but when I looked into your eyes
I found I couldn’t see you anymore.

They said you’d lost your passport and your money
Lost your mind somewhere along the way
Ended up in a cell in a deportation camp
Where you couldn’t tell them who you were,
Couldn’t tell them where you came from,
Couldn’t tell them anything to help them get you home again.

So you were the first of many friends
To earn a diagnosis and a pill to fix it all
But you couldn’t laugh out loud
Couldn’t cry out your rage and shame
It seemed you were locked behind a lithium wall.

They said you’d lost your passport and your money
Lost your mind somewhere along the way
Ended up in a cell in a deportation camp
Where you couldn’t tell them who you were,
Couldn’t tell them where you came from,
Couldn’t tell them anything to help them get you home again.

Ten years have come and gone since then.
I could not see then what I did not understand.
My older sister’s diagnosed,
My younger sister’s getting close,
And now I think at last I understand.

They said you’d lost your passport and your money
Lost your mind somewhere along the way
I didn’t know what you’d been through,
And I could not see clear to you
Sittin’ on the psych ward floor that day.
They said you’d lost your passport and your money
Lost your mind somewhere along the way

© 1995 Emily Melcher

Calling My Wisdom Home

My mother always told me I was wise
That mine was a very old soul
And somehow that led to me bearing the burdens
of others
who weren’t quite as whole

Now I’m nearly forty, my shoulders are aching,
I’m weary right down to my bones
For all of the sorrow and all the hearts breaking
weigh on me,
heavy as stones

A girl should never have to be mother to her mother
A boy should never have to be his father’s confidante

My mother always told me I was wise
That mine was a very old soul
And somehow that led to me bearing the burdens
of others
who weren’t quite as whole

Now I see the correlation
Please accept my resignation
I’ll begin the reclamation
of what I hold dear

I don’t want to be distracted
All my inner light diffracted
All my energy extracted
til I disappear

A girl should never have to be mother to her mother
A boy should never have to be his father’s confidante

I’ve had time for contemplation
Please accept my resignation
From this little congregation
I was raised to lead

I don’t want to be distracted
All my inner light diffracted
All my energy extracted
That’s not what I need

Cause I’m not yet forty, my shoulders are aching,
I’m weary right down to my bones
For all of the sorrow and all the hearts breaking
weigh on me
heavy as stones

So I’m calling my wisdom home

©1999 Emily Melcher

Covers included on the “Calling My Wisdom Home” CD:

I am not at liberty to post my recordings of these songs here. I have a limited number of CDs still available. If you’re interested, please contact me via email at revemilymelcher@comcast.net.

“Low to the Ground” by Libby Roderick
“From the Lambing” to the Wool by Judy Small
“Rock in the River” by Neal Hagberg
“The Dutchman” by Michael Peter Smith
“No Man’s Land” by Eric Bogle
“Music in My Mother’s House” by Stuart Stotts
“Because You Do” by Libby Roderick