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WAYWARD RAM

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" WAYWARD RAM"

 Words and Music by Chaim Salenger
© 1993 Chaim Salenger - All rights reserved.
1993 Jerusalem Echoes Productions

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THE FOLLOWING TEXT IS BEING PROVIDED TO YOU BY OHR SOMAYACH INSTITUTIONS, JERUSALEM. YOU MAY VIEW IT, DOWNLOAD IT, PRINT IT, AND DISTRIBUTE IT. HOWEVER, THE MATERIAL IS COPYRIGHT © 1993 BY Chaim Salenger. THE TEXT MAY NOT BE USED FOR COMMERCIAL PURPOSES OR PUBLISHED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT THE EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.



FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE


For More Information Contact:
Eliezer Shapiro Tel: 972-2-810315
Fax: 972-2-812890
An entirely different recording of Jewish music is now available. "Wayward Ram" is a collection of songs by singer-songwriter Chaim Salenger. Sophisticated, contemporary, thoughtful and often witty, these songs blend heartfelt and intelligent lyrics with intricate and inventive melodies and arrangements. This album is a breakthrough in Jewish music, certain to appeal to discriminating listeners who enjoy well crafted music and words, but with a Jewish angle.
"Wayward Ram" has been enthusiastically received by Jews from across the religious spectrum, who have enjoyed its often poignant and thought-provoking messages, its clever and enjoyable word-play and musical inventiveness. Chaim Salenger is a master songwriter who captures many moods and ideas in his songs. The broad appeal of his music is seen by the fact that, after purchasing this tape, many committed Jews have bought additional copies for their non-religious friends and family. The response has been tremendous.
Co-produced by Jeff Horowitz, a veteran of the Jerusalem recording scene, "Wayward Ram" is a refreshing musical experience. Salenger's solo acoustic guitar weaves through tight arrangements of electric and acoustic piano, woodwinds, strings, accordion, and percussion. With an expressive singing style, he tells stories of marriage and motherhood, exile and return; 'hating' Hebrew school and kosher 'cuisine'. In the particularly chilling song "Germany", he satirizes the 19th century German Reform Movement whose followers believed that "we will always have a home in Germany".
Prior to beginning yeshiva studies at Ohr Somayach in Jerusalem in 1982, Salenger had already begun a songwriting and performing career in the Chicago area. "I was inspired by the brilliant songwriters of the 60s, 70s and 80s - those who sought to re-create the song as a popular art form. Seeing that the Torah offers such a fresh and true perspective of life's dilemmas and joys, I soon began feeling that these ideas could be expressed in this way".

Fresh, unique and creative, "Wayward Ram" is the long-awaited contemporary Jewish recording for the times.

"Chaim Salenger widens the horizons of Jewish music with this recording.. Excellent lyrics...a very enjoyable album."
Yakov Asher Sinclair
Veteran producer of platinum selling popular artists

"A masterpiece"
Peretz Eichler
Host of 'Generations' (WJLK)

"Wayward Ram" is available at all fine Jewish bookstores on the Jerusalem Echoes label, distributed by Aderet.
22 Shimon Hatzadik Street, POB 18103 Jerusalem 91180 Israel / Tel. 02-810315 Fax. 972-2-8128901

A WAYWARD RAM

Executive Producer - Robin Lauffer
Produced and arranged by Chaim Salenger and Jeff Horovitch
Vocals, acoustic and classical guitar - Chaim Salenger
2nd guitar on "Hebrew School" & electric guitar- Yosef Cohen
Cover Illustration & Design - Dain Marcus
Recorded at Creative Audio Studios - Jerusalem
Special thanks to Mr. and Mrs. D. Lauffer, Roger Sherizan, Bob Sunray and Boruch Smith.
Thanks to Rob Kurtz for the push; and Yehoshua Karsh, Ari Waldman and Gavriel Rubin for their assistance.
Thanks to my wife Judy, my parents and my in-laws for all their support.
To Reuven - Thanks for all the nights off.
Dedicated to Rav Mendel Weinbach and Rav Nota Schiller with heartfelt appreciation for all their encouragement through the years.
All Songs & lyrics © 1993 Chaim Salenger - All rights reserved.
1993 Jerusalem Echoes Productions
SIDE ONE

American Exile [Audio Format] (208K .wav file)

You can see it in their eyes
As they walk along their home
The narrow dusty streets that are Jerusalem stone,
That they've come to realize
What they've heard but never known
And the faces they are wearing are
American made.
From the land of silk and money
Where the free life comes so easy,
Where grandfather and mother came
To buy a better life
Where that great green gentile lady
Said "Welcome to my country
And maybe you'll survive an American exile."
An American exile
An American exile
We are fading
We are fading
An American exile
An American exile.
We are fading and fading away.
Like snow flakes softly melting
In a kind of blind surrender
Though some remain protected as they
Wander.
With a feeling nagging, leading
To the crystal Sinai waters
Washing away an American exile
An American exile etc.

Hebrew School

See the DOC or ASCII versions for the lyrics to this song.

Germany

Based on the writings of Abraham Geiger, a prominent 19th century leader of the German Reform Movement.

We are living, in the greatest land
The world has ever known
And my brother,
It appears that we have
Finally found a home
In this country, where a man is sure that
He is truly free
And there's never been a greater land
In all our memory
And we've finally found a home
In Germany.
There's no reason to remain forever
Separate and strange.
We can shed all of our shackles
And embrace the Modern Age
In this country
Where the people are so cultured and refined
And together we can live in perfect harmony
And find
That we'll always have a home
In Germany.
There are those who insist
With their stubborn minds
To hold tightly to the past
And they imagine they're unable
To compromise
All the ties that they hold fast,
To all their silly superstitions
And medieval lies.
How they foolishly believe in what they say
And how they foolishly go facing to
The eastern skies
To Jerusalem,
Where they believe
That they'll return someday.
But no longer
Shall we rely on fantasy or games
No no longer
For Berlin is our Jerusalem today
And forever
As we prosper in this land of liberty
And we live and die upon the holy soil of Germany.
We will always have a home
We will always have a home
We will always have a home in Germany.

S.S. Man

A true story, told to me by the person it happened to.

I was a slave in a German munitions plant
In the winter of '44
In a frozen Hungarian labor camp
Near the end of the Second World War
And I remember we were sitting around one night
Commiserating in the pale moonlight
Wondering aloud if we'd ever see the sight
Of a decent meal once more.
Then the door opens wide and this S.S. man
Comes inside and motions to me
Saying "I noticed you for the first time tonight
And I've come to foretell what will be."
He said "Tonight they will gather you all my friend,
And march you off to a field and then they'll
Finish you off with their guns, for the end
Is upon you now you see.
But you alone I will save.
Meet me in an hour and be brave."
Well I believe I killed a guard
With my own innocent hands
Huddling in the shadows I slipped through the yard
To rendezvous with my S.S. man
And he smuggled me out in the thick of the night
To the edge of the forest in the pale moonlight
And he wished me well as I ran for my life
And then deep in the distance as I run
I hear the thundering of guns..
Long ago
Were two small boys,
One was gentile
The other a Jew and the gentile boy was
Poor as a mouse
And the other was well-to-do
And everyday in the school house
The one with the candy
The one with the food
Would give half of all he had to his hungry friend.
And years go by and they forgot but
G-d never did
And when He brought them together
On that cold dark night
Seeing fit
To repay a debt
Looking down from where He hid.

Kosher Food

After all I have chewed
I can only conclude
That I'm a fan of nearly every cuisine
From Korean to the Creole down in New Orleans,
But there's one thing that I must confess,
I only ingest
Kosher food, kosher food, kosher food.
Now I know it's passe
For a nouveau gourmet
To say no to escargots and pate
And then decline to go and dine on crab souffle
And regarding that shrimp, I repeat,
I only eat
Kosher food, kosher food, kosher food.
Now I'm not talking kosher style
With its pastrami and it's salami, yeah -
But I've had kosher pastrami a couple of times before.
But I don't want to eat no treif my friend,
And if you do well that that's your business
But I won't be coming knocking at your door no more.
Now a nice b.l.t.
Don't do nothin' for me
And there's nothing nice about it no how
And even sausage makes me nauseous anyhow
And regarding that burger and cheese
Hold the cheese, if you please,
Kosher food, kosher food, kosher food.
Well, you can ruminate on brisket and gefilte fish and kiskes, yeah,
But if it ain't kosher then you'll just be wasting your time.
For though your mind may be well fooded
But your soul will get polluted
And for you this is totally unsuited
And its a crime, crime crime.
Well now a nice b.l.t.
Don't do nothin' for me
And there's nothin' nice about it no how
And you know sausage makes me nauseous anyhow
And if we truly are what we eat
We'd better eat
Bon Appetit kosher food.
SIDE TWO

A Wayward Ram

After being told not to slaughter his son Isaac, "... Avraham raised up his eyes and saw, and behold, a ram after" ...What is "After ?" ...After all of the generations (the people of) Israel will be in the grip of transgressions and tangled in troubles, and in the end will be redeemed by the ram's horns.." Midresh Rabba

It's a nice soft suicide
We are grinning as we go.
We've been taken for a ride
But to where we do not know.
Go and find the human heart
The human heart's in exile.
And so we say we're doing fine
Occupied in our own decline
And there we sit in a frozen mood
Shattering in pieces,
Filling up on foreign food
But funny how the hunger never ceases.
Through the vanities of time
And the platitudes of youth
We are wasted in our prime
And we can't afford the truth.
Tangled in the thicket like the horns of
A wayward ram
Listen well, and you'll hear that horn a-blowin'
Calling to the soul of man.
You can build a tower tall.
You can make yourself the king
And though the hand of man is small
He can do most anything
With every strange success we own
We say we're unassisted and though
History moves in a logical flow
We say that we're exempted
And when the physical shell gets thicker
You see the spark inside getting sicker
So we move around a little quicker
Employing every diversion that's invented,
In an artificial light,
Everything appears the same.
There's no wrong and there's no right,
Only thrills to ease the pain
Tangled in the thicket etc.
Float around on a lavender cloud
Thinking nothing serious
When suddenly you're on the ground
In ways that seem mysterious
To modify the crooked lines
To clarify the alibis
And whereupon you realize
That the bridge is rather narrow and precarious,
It's a nice soft suicide etc.

The King and Queen


In Judaism, a bride and groom are referred to during their wedding and their first year of marriage as a King and Queen.

Family and friends are gathered 'round and fancy-free.
They dance before the King
They dance before the Queen
And everyplace a smiling face that knows without a doubt
That she has finally found the best
And he a place his heart may rest
And they will be forever blessed
Wherever they remain the King and Queen.
A singer singing harmony can never sing alone.
He needs another voice to complement his own.
When the voices mingle and their paths are woven tight
They merge in utter innocence
They bend in gentle permanence
The blending of two immigrants
The mending of the two halves, the King and Queen.
The dancers are dizzily dancing
And the jugglers are juggling well
But the King and the Queen are the stars of the night
The stars of the night
And the night is electric, charged with the air of delight
Life is ever fleeting and the years go rolling by.
The children who had wed
Have kissed their youth goodbye.
But somewhere lies a photograph
Remembering the scene
Where underneath a canopy
With faces frozen youthful
When they first became a family
And ever they remain the King and Queen.
Forever shall they reign
The King and Queen.

Rachel's Daughter

Though it's four in the morning
The mother so wearily rises and gathers her robe
And she smiles at her husband who lay sleeping,
How he keeps sleeping, she never knows,
For the room how it shakes when her baby awakens
She cuddles him close to her chest
Like she did for the other two before him
And how she hopes she will do for the rest.
And like the mother
Who came before her
There're many mountains
She need conquer
For all the flowers nestled in her soil
It's love like water
From Rachel's daughter.
And to those who say prison is something like home
And that children are nothing but chains,
She says "Come let me take you to my prison
Soft as sunlight
Pure as rain
Where prestige is obtained through a warm embrace
To a child who requires it somehow
And where freedom is flying on the inside
In the freedom that conscience endows"
And like the mother etc.
Now the laundry is hanging
The dishes are draining
And breakfast still on the floor
And the coffee she never got around to
Although she tries to hours before.
But now the children are busily playing
And the baby is finally asleep
And at last she sits quietly surveying
Satisfied in the company she keeps
And like the mother etc.

The Arrogant Prince


Based on a story taken from Rabbi Isaac Blazer's classic book "Kochav Ohr", used to demonstrate the meaning of the phrase.. "Our father, our King, hear our voice, pity and be compassionate to us", found in the Aveinu Malkenu prayer.

There once was a King
And the King had a son
And the son was a clever but arrogant prince
And the prince would often act in open disdain
And with bold disregard to his father the King
And the King wanted hard to ignore it
But in vain was the burden he bore
So they banished the prince from the palace
Though still what he wore
Were his royal robes.
So the prince went in search
Of somewhere to begin
And he came to a town
But he felt out of place
For the men were all minors
And he a noble man
With his long royal robes and his soft royal face.
And they made him an honorary minor
Digging down in some forsaken hole
But the robes that were once much finer
Turned black as the coal
And badly tattered.
Well then, thought the prince,
"I am far too elite.
I must dress and behave
Like the common folk do."
So he let grow his hair
And he drank and he cursed
And became like the others though possibly worse.
But the King had a change of heart one day
And he longed for his wandering son.
So somehow they finally found him
But strangely enough,
He'd forgotten who he was.
Well there stood the prince
In his black tattered robes,
Waiting out in the cold saying
"Please let me in"
And the guard took one look
At this strange ragged man
And said "I know the prince,
And buddy, you are not him."
But the King heard the noise in the palace
And the pleading and the cries of someone
And he called to the guard "Let him in,
Let him in, let him in;
That's the voice of my son."
Aveinu Malkenu
Our Father our King
Please hear our voice,
Please let us in.
And though we are ragged
And though we are wrong all along
We know it's true
Aveinu Malkenu.
Aveinu Malkenu
Our Father our King
Please hear our voice
Please let us in.
And though we are strangers,
Deep in our voice is the cry
Of your wandering son.
Aveinu Malkenu
Our Father Our King.

Land Can't Talk


The "wise man" is Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin, the disciple of the Vilna Gaon.

Two guys fighting 'bout a piece of land
Each one says "It's mine".
They rush right off to the wise man and he says
"I don't know this time.
Maybe I'll go ask the land.
Maybe it'll tell me true
Who oh who does it belong to.
Maybe you
Or maybe you."
And they said "Land can't talk,
Land can't talk,
And even if it could,
It would plead for me,
But land can't talk."
They take him out to that piece of ground
He puts his ear to the earth.
Listens really carefully for a minute or so and says
"You won't believe what I heard.
The land says "You're both wrong.
You fight so foolishly
But don't you know that in the end my friends,
You'll both belong to me."
And you say land can't talk etc.
Copyright © 1995 Ohr Somayach International. Send comments to: ohr@jer1.co.il