From the recording Ballad Hunter
"Queen of the Pines" is a song that came out of my frustration with how we’ve lost the ability to really talk to each other—about politics, religion, or anything that matters. It feels like we’re stuck in a cycle of soundbites, defensiveness, and even violence, both in our words and actions. This song is my way of pushing back against that, a kind of musical prayer that the pillars of our society—those things that have held us together—can somehow stay standing.
The imagery in "Queen of the Pines" is deeply personal, drawing on family stories about surviving fascism in Hitler’s Germany and the Dirty War in Argentina. There’s a sense of longing in the lyrics, a plea for understanding and compassion in a world that feels like it’s falling apart. The repeated call to the "Queen of the Pines" is like asking for mercy from something bigger than all of us, hoping that even in the darkest times, we can find some light, some hope, and maybe even a way back to each other.
Lyrics
If only I had change for a dollar
Not a change of heart, lacking a quarter
From where I’m standing, lost among the cedars
Have pity on me
Queen of the pines
Scattered and broken, discarded like clothing
Remnants of dreams outgrown and torn
Grasping at saplings to hold against this storm
Have pity on mine
Queen of the pines
At night I can hear the bodies of angels
Crashing through branches that won’t break their fall
From my little window watching the world fall apart
Have pity on me
Queen of the pines
From deep in this valley where the river runs dark
And the cedars usurp the very rights of the sun
I’ll light a small candle for a world that’s gone blind
Have pity on me
Queen of the pines
At night I can hear a choir of bloodhounds
Wise to the smell of fear on the ground
From deep in this valley no solace or refuge
Have pity on me
Queen of the pines