Birdland by Patti Smith Lyrics Meaning – Unraveling the Lyrical Majesty of Patti’s Songbird
Lyrics
All the long black funeral cars left the scene
And the boy was just standing there alone
Looking at the shiny red tractor
Him and his daddy used to sit inside
And circle the blue fields and grease the night.
It was if someone had spread butter on all the fine points of the stars
‘Cause when he looked up they started to slip.
Then he put his head in the crux of his arm
And he started to drift, drift to the belly of a ship,
Let the ship slide open, and he went inside of it
And saw his daddy ‘hind the control board streamin’ beads of light,
He saw his daddy ‘hind the control board,
And he was very different tonight
‘Cause he was not human, he was not human.
Little boy’s face lit up with such naked joy
That the sun burned around his lids and his eyes were like two suns,
White lids, white opals, seeing everything just a little bit too clearly
And he looked around and there was no black ship in sight,
No black funeral cars, nothing except for him, the raven
And fell on his knees and looked up and cried out,
No, daddy, don’t leave me here alone,
Take me up, daddy, to the belly of your ship,
Let the ship slide open and I’ll go inside of it
Where you’re not human, you are not human.
But nobody heard the boy’s cry of alarm.
Nobody there ‘cept for the birds around the New England farm
And they gathered in all directions, like roses they scattered
And they were like compass grass coming together into the head of a shaman bouquet
Slit in his nose and all the others went shooting
And he saw the lights of traffic beckoning like the hands of Blake
Grabbing at his cheeks, taking out his neck,
All his limbs, everything was twisted and he said,
I won’t give up, won’t give up, don’t let me give up,
I won’t give up, come here, let me go up fast,
Take me up quick, take me up, up to the belly of a ship
And the ship slides open and I go inside of it, where I am not human.
I am helium raven and this movie is mine,
So he cried out as he stretched the sky,
Pushing it all out like latex cartoon, am I all alone in this generation?
We’ll just be dreaming of animation night and day
And won’t let up, won’t let up and I see them coming in,
Oh, I couldn’t hear them before, but I hear ’em now,
It’s a radar scope in all silver and all platinum lights
Moving in like black ships, they were moving in, streams of them,
And he put up his hands and he said, “It’s me, it’s me,
I’ll give you my eyes, take me up, oh now please take me up,
I’m helium raven waitin’ for you, please take me up,
Don’t leave me here!”
The sun, the sign, the cross,
Like the shape of a tortured woman, the true shape of a tortured woman,
The mother standing in the doorway letting her sons
No longer presidents but prophets
They’re all dreaming they’re gonna bear the prophet,
He’s gonna run through the fields dreaming in animation
It’s all gonna split his skull
It’s gonna come out like a black bouquet shining
Like a fist that’s gonna shoot them up
Like light, like Mohamed Boxer
Take them up up up up up up
Oh, let’s go up, up, take me up, I’ll go up,
I’m going up, I’m going up
Take me up, I’m going up, I’ll go up there
Go up go up go up go up up up up up up up
Up, up to the belly of a ship.
Let the ship slide open and we’ll go inside of it
Where we are not human, we’re not human.
Well, there was sand, there were tiles,
The sun had melted the sand and it coagulated
Like a river of glass
When it hardened he looked at the surface
He saw his face
And where there were eyes were just two white opals, two white opals,
Where there were eyes there were just two white opals
And he looked up and the rays shot
And he saw, raven comin’ in
And he crawled on his back and he went up
Up up up up up up
Sha da do wop, da shaman do way, sha da do wop, da shaman do way,
Sha da do wop, da shaman do way, sha da do wop, da shaman do way,
Sha da do wop, da shaman do way,
We like Birdland.
Patti Smith—poetess, punk rocker, prophetess. In her epic track ‘Birdland’ from the 1975 album ‘Horses,’ Smith takes us on a journey that transcends the mere musical, delving deep into realms of grief, transcendence, and otherworldliness. This isn’t just a song; it’s a narrative, a stream-of-consciousness poetic odyssey that begs for an in-depth exploration to unravel its multilayered significance.
Drawing inspiration from the works of Peter Reich and his book ‘A Book of Dreams’, which Smith has openly expressed admiration for, ‘Birdland’ is a poignant sonic enactment of a son’s mental voyage following the death of his father. It’s a dive into the subconscious, a wrestle with identity and human confines, wrapped in the haunting echoes of Smith’s voice and the relentless swirls of her band’s soundscape.
The Emotional Core: Between Loss and Longing
At the heart of ‘Birdland’ lies a stark portrait of loss. The song’s opening lines gracefully paint the aftermath of a funeral, as the boy is left in the quiet company of a shiny red tractor—a vestige of shared moments with his deceased father. The tractor, an emblem of their bond, of circling the blue fields, becomes the vehicle for the boy’s emotional and fantastical escape. Smith expertly weaves this intense emotional longing for connection into the texture of the music itself.
Here, Smith’s voice becomes the thread that stitches pain and yearning together, often blurring the lines. It’s as if the melody, rhythm, and lyrics are at once lamenting and seeking solace in what is imagined or hoped for beyond the horizon of the known and tangible. The simple farm setting unfolds into a cosmos of personal mythology as the boy’s journey takes flight.
A Cosmic Journey: The Transformation Into The Non-Human
The existential voyage ‘Birdland’ embarks upon is marked by a compelling narrative of metamorphosis from the human to the non-human. When the boy drifts ‘to the belly of a ship’ and encounters his otherworldly father ‘streamin’ beads of light,’ Smith uses this profound scenery to illustrate an extraterrestrial transformation—a radical shedding of human skin.
This theme is obsessively repeated as a plea, an urgent cry to escape human limitations and merge with the celestial. The ‘helium raven’ motif symbolizes the freedom of flight and the desire to ascend beyond grief, to a place where a son can once again find his father. It’s a universe where even the stars and sunlight rain down an altered visibility, echoing Smith’s morphing of reality and the emotional transparency involved in seeking one’s identity in the vast unknown.
The Subtext Speaks: Uncovering The Song’s Hidden Meanings
Stripping ‘Birdland’ down to its core, one uncovers a web of meanings relating to the inevitable human confrontation with the inexplicable. The song becomes a celebration of myth-making, of finding or creating narratives to understand the space left by loss. The metamorphosis into ‘not human’ forms reflects a deeply ingrained need to seek answers outside human understanding.
Peter Reich’s ‘A Book of Dreams’ is the evident undercurrent that infuses ‘Birdland’ with Smith’s own interpretation of experiencing and witnessing the majesty of cosmic and paternal attachment. There is also a questioning of concrete realities, poking at a larger philosophical narrative: How does one continue to dream and seek out other realms of existence while grappling with the mundane, the mortal coil? ‘Birdland,’ then, is at once a eulogy and a hopeful glance toward the infinite.
Memorable Lines: Echoes of Smith’s Lyrical Genius
‘Birdland’ is drenched in memorable lines, but one recurrent phrase captures the zeal of Smith’s narrative prowess: ‘I won’t give up, won’t give up, don’t let me give up, I won’t give up.’ This mantra-like insistence becomes a symbol of resilience against the backdrop of despair, a vocalized struggle against the gravity of grief pulling the boy toward defeat.
Another hypnotic repetition—the plea for transcendence, ‘Take me up, daddy, to the belly of your ship’—forges an aural spell that casts Smith not just as a musician but as a chantress, invoking the raw power of longing and transformation. The song’s last lines, ‘Go up go up go up go up up up up up up up,’ serve as a final, climbing crescendo that hammers the desire for ascent, a metaphorical climb to something greater than the self.
Legacy and Longevity: Birdland’s Enduring Resonance
‘Birdland’ is a testament to Patti Smith’s enduring influence as a musician and poet whose works surpass the barriers of time, especially in the ever-evolving landscape of music. Her song continues to be a narrative that captures the imagination, urging listeners to consider the delicate dance between reality and whatever lies beyond our worldly comprehension.
The song’s open-ended, interpretative nature leaves it flourishing as a rich text in the library of musical poetry, inviting new generations to decode its depth. It stands as an art piece that allows emotions to take flight in tandem with its raven—always bound for some alien ship, some ‘belly’ of greater understanding, where we can find solace in the intimation that within us and above us, there might be realms where we are, indeed, ‘not human.’
