My daughter’s high school theater group just finished a run of the play The Women of Lockerbie. Jill and I went to every show. Of course, a big reason for that was that Bethany was playing the central role of Madeline, the grieving mother. But we also went because the play is a great play, done in the form of a Greek tragedy, complete with a chorus, and Bethany’s theater group performed it so well. It is a wrenching, haunting exploration of grief, hatred, love and cleansing.
In the final scene, as Madeline and the women of Lockerbie washed the clothes of the dead, a recording of the song below was played. It’s heartbreaking and I thought I’d share it with you.
Whaur Dae Ye Lie?
Whaur dae ye lie, my faither?
Whaur dae ye lie, my son?
Whaur dae ye lie, my ain true love?
When will the truth be won?
Oor friends, they came tae protect us
Oor friends they bad us bide
Oor friends left us standing there naked
Wi nae place left tae hide
Oor neighbours, they came wi a hundred year hate
Oor neighbours, they came wi guns
Oor neighbours, they came for oor menfolk
An they slew them, everyone
I hae sought oot yer grave wi my mother
I hae sought oot yer grave in vain
I hae sought the bare banes o’ the truth and the men
Faither, whaur are ye lane?
I hae cried oot yer name tae the for winds
I hae cried oot yer name til the dawn
I hae cried in the arms o’ yer sister dear
Whaur dae ye lie my son?
I hae dream’d o’ yer breath upon me
I hae dream’d o’ yer yella hair
I hae dream’d o’ the sounds o yer dyin love
Whaur dae ye lie, my dear?