I just discovered John McCutcheon. The Washington Post described John as "Virginia's Rustic Renaissance Man," a moniker flawed only by its understatement. "Calling John McCutcheon a 'folksinger' is like saying Deion Sanders is just a football player..." (Dallas Morning News). Besides his usual circuit of major concert halls and theaters, John is equally at home in an elementary school auditorium, a festival stage or at a farm rally. He just moved from Charlottesville to NYC.
One of my favorite songs, just perfect for Mother's Day, is:
Calling All the Children Home
Home to the table, home to the feast
Where the last are first and the greatest are the least
Where the rich will envy what the poor have got
Everybody's got enough, 'though we ain't got a lot
No one is forgotten, no one is alone
When we're calling all the children home
Gathered 'round the table and the big, black pot
Everybody's got enough, 'though we ain't got a lotNo one is forgotten, no one is alone
From the sacks in Soweto to the ice of Nome
From Baghdad City to the streets of Rome
When we're calling all the children home
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