THE GENIE DOESN'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith for the Years of Winter… ©

Bob Butts and Kathy Roberts [married to each other, despite the different last names] took us to a concert by Carrie Newcomer, the delightful Quaker folk singer. During one of her songs, I suddenly got an image of a gravel road I walked as a boy. In the image, I saw a blue glass bottle under some sumac in the ditch beside the road. I went down into the ditch and picked up the bottle, to look inside it, for bottles often contain messages. Indeed, there was a message inside, on a crumpled and dirty scrap of paper. It said, “The genie doesn’t live here anymore.”

So I wrote this song…

The genie doesn’t live here anymore

No, the genie doesn’t live here anymore

You can ask a hundred times

You can rhyme a hundred rhymes

But the genie doesn’t live here anymore

I was going down the road, on my back, a heavy load

I was wishing for a friend to lend a hand

I sent my wish up to the sky, and there came a quick reply

The genie doesn’t live here anymore

My feet were blocks of lead, the sun was hot upon my head

I was wishing for a way to turn around

My life was feeling tragic, all I needed was some magic

But the genie doesn’t live here anymore

Wishes are like breezes, they have no hands to help along

As soon as you can make them they are gone

I’ll have to put my faith in God, and put my hand in yours

For the genie doesn’t live here anymore

           

The genie doesn’t live here anymore

No, the genie doesn’t live here anymore

You can make a hundred wishes

You can make them all delicious

But the genie doesn’t live here anymore

John Robert McFarland

johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com

I tweet as yooper1721.