Blue light rain, whoa, unbroken chain1,2
Looking for familiar faces in an empty window pane3
Listening for the secret, searching for the sound4
But I could only hear the preacher and the baying of his hounds
Willow sky, whoa, I walk and wonder why
They say love your brother but you will catch it when you try
Roll you down the line boy, drop you for a loss5
Ride out on a cold railroad and nail you to a cross
November and more as I wait for the score
They’re telling me forgiveness is the key to every door6
A slow winter day, a night like forever
Sink like a stone, float like a feather
Lilac rain, unbroken chain
Song of the Saw-Whet owl7
Out on the mountain it’ll drive you insane
Listening to the winds howl
Unbroken chain of sorrow and pearls
Unbroken chain of sky and sea
Unbroken chain of the western wind
Unbroken chain of you and me
Words by Robert M. Petersen
Music by Phil Lesh
See note under “Operator.”
The concept of an “unbroken chain” usually applies to the theory of transmission of authority down across the generations, often used in the sense of religious authority, which fits in well with the song. Religious scholars speak of the “unbroken chain of Moses, Jesus, Paul, Augustine, etc. . . .” An essay on the concept of authority in Dictionary of the History of Ideas: Studies of Selected Pivotal Ideas states, “The idea of church authority . . . juxtaposed ideas of authorized power, . . . of unbroken binding tradition. . . .”[Italics added]
Petersen contrasts the unbroken chain of authority, of the preacher and his hounds, and of the hypocrisy of religion epitomized by “They say love your brother but you will catch it when you try,” with the unbroken chain of natural existence, of individuals in the world whose conscience is the true authority: “Unbroken chain of you and me.”
A personal note: One day while in college, I hopped on my bicycle, singing this very tune. As I got to the words unbroken chain, I stepped down on my pedals, and my bike chain broke. Really!
Resonance with “Box of Rain”: “Look out of any window. . . .”
Also an LSD-delivery method, “windowpane,” in which a gelatin chip was saturated with liquid LSD.
Used by Phil Lesh as the title for his autobiography, subtitled My Life with the Grateful Dead. (Little, Brown, 2005).
An American football idiom, in which the carrier of the ball is sacked behind the line of scrimmage, resulting in a net loss of yards.
The “Key of Forgiveness” (six feet long) was wielded by “Queen of the Mardi Gras” Goldie Carolyn Rush, longtime member of the Grateful Dead extended family, on the Phil Zone float, Mardi Gras, February 12, 2005. Goldie died at age fifty-eight on March 28, 2005.
Saw-Whet Owl: Aegolius acadicusAegolius arcadicus. (Length: seven inches, Wingspan: seventeen inches”) Commoner than generally believed, but nocturnal and seldom seen unless found roosting in dense young evergreens or in thickets. . . . Common call is a long series of short whistles. (Robbins)
Its range covers the entire United States, with the exception of the far Southeast.
From a monograph on the saw-whet, on the topic of its song:
Vocal array. At least nine different vocalizations reported. . . . There is little consensus in the literature as to which is the “saw-whet” call after which the species is named.
(1) Advertising call, a monotonous series of whistled notes on a constant pitch of about 1,100 Hz. Given almost entirely by males, but females do produce a version of it during courtship; female version softer and less consistent in pitch and amplitude than that of the male. Male’s advertising song is audible to the human ear up to 300 meters away through forest and one kilometer over water.
(2) A short, rapid, and soft series of whistled notes, similar to the response version of the advertising song described above, given by the male when approaching the nest with food.
(3) A nasal whine or wail produced at about the same pitch as the advertising song, but lasting for two or three seconds; pitch changes throughout as harmonics are added with increasing volume. This is perhaps the “gasping and decidedly uncanny ah-h-h” mentioned by Brewster in Bent (1938).
(4) A short series (usually three) of loud, sharp, squeaking calls (e.g., ksew-ksew-ksew) given by both sexes, often mentioned as the “saw-whet” call.
(5) A high-pitched tsst call apparently given only by females, usually in response to the male’s advertising song or the shorter version of it given before visiting the nest.
(6) Nestlings give chirruping begging calls.
(7) A short, insectlike buzz reported during a threat display.
(8) Twittering call similar to that of the American woodcock. . . .
(9) Captured birds sometimes give a single, short, relatively guttural “chuck” call immediately upon release. (Cannings) 96
Cannings goes on to talk about the circumstances surrounding the song of the saw-whet owl:
Song usually given from within a half hour of sunset to just before sunrise. . . . Advertising song usually given from high but concealed perches, e.g., from within the crown of a tree.
And, in an email correspondance, he adds: “Also, after reading the lyrics, I thought I’d mention that on several occasions I’ve had people call me to complain about a saw-whet owl calling in their backyard. The incessant tooting whistles were driving them crazy! Just like the song says . . . These birds start tooting as soon as it’s dark and often keep going until dawn, two notes every second.”
More on the song of the saw-whet owl:
As with many owls, especially the smaller species, the saw-whet owl is capable of producing remarkably ventriloquistic effects. The authors have actually watched one of these interesting little owls calling from a branch about twenty feet in front of us and yet both of us were utterly convinced for a time that another owl was calling, first from behind us, then off to the left, and finally from far ahead of us past the owl we were watching. It was only through associating the sounds we were hearing with the movements of the bird’s beak as it sang that we were able to convince ourselves that the bird we were watching was the one who was doing all the singing.
One of the more pleasant calls for which the saw-whet owl is noted is a very melodious, tinkling sound that just cannot be reproduced in print but which has the remarkable quality of sounding almost exactly like a tricklet of water falling into a quiet little pool. [Italics added] (Eckert) 66
Which means that the funny sound on the album may be in imitation of the owl itself!
Studio recording: Grateful Dead from the Mars Hotel (June 27, 1974).
First live performance: March 19, 1995, at the Spectrum in Philadelphia.