The Black Forest -- a Memory

A true story -- sort of.  I was actually only six years old.  The girl was actually my family, and the bicycles were my father's '56 Chevy
. My father had been reassigned to serve in Orléans, France.  We sailed across the Atlantic on the U.S.S. R.E. Callan to Bremerhaven, Germany, collected the Chevy which had also shipped across, and drove across Germany, to France.  Even as young as I was, I was struck by the beauty of Germany, as we passed through many small towns and visited Frankfurt and Baden-Baden on our way, both of which I remember as being charming.  But the memory of Germany that stuck with me the most was our climb into the clouds in the Black Forest.  As a six-year-old, I thought that when we got on the other side of the clouds we would see Heaven.  The rest of the story, as described in the song, is true; and Heaven turned out to be a picnic of German liverwurst on buttered bread in a shed in the rain in the Black Forest of Germany.
words and music by Tony Provencher - 1970
Vocal and Guitar - Tony Provencher
Album: The Jealous  Sea - Part III - Smiles and Tears
Together up the shady winding paths,
Where tall trees sing in slumber's silent tones,
Laughing, we rode our bicycles alone
High into the silent sleeping clouds
That crowned the mountain up whose side we rode.

And the clouds in their waking yawned and stretched and rained
And rained and rained and poured. And we rode on
Until we dribbled and giggled our way
Into a shed, (placed there, no doubt, for us,)
And ate liverwurst on buttered bread.
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